Welcome to the Stage
by Madam Mimm
Summary: A.U. in which Gabriel is a stand up comedian, Sam is a reluctant law student, Dean is bad at being a homosexual, and Pamela is fed up with the lot of them. Sam/Gabe, Some Dean/Cas, Bobby/Ellen
1. Chapter 1

The crowd had turned ugly, and they weren't a particularly handsome bunch to begin with. Anyone who's stood up on stage with only a microphone between them and a hundred or more expectant faces will tell you that entertaining them is no laughing matter. Usually, Gabriel revelled on the stage, cool, quick and confident, but tonight was a bad night.

It was a bad night for three reasons. First, the crowd was small, maybe fifty at most. Second, the crowd was only half interested in him. Third, and most importantly, the half that weren't interested were trying to watch the baseball game on the TVs that hung in the bar. Thus, his witticisms were not appreciated, and he hardly felt he owed the audience a good performance. Now, due to a poorly timed remark concerning one of the home team's most popular players, Gabriel was facing the wrath of several burly Texans. Yipe.

To say they were "heckling" would be like saying that God and Satan were mildly ticked off with each other. However, Gabriel was a seasoned comic, and stood firm under their tirade of abuse. He smiled politely and looked at his watch.

"You know, if you want rid of me, it would be quicker to just shut up and let me finish my set… we don't want to wait around here for you to evolve enough to understand language."

"We don't want to listen to no pansy-ass…"

"Double negatives sir, great job on dispelling those stereotypes."

That got him a couple of laughs from the crowd. The burly Texan flustered.

"Now you see here, you know who I am?"

"Why? Did you forget?" It was an old one, but a classic. The Texan's friends chuckled, and Gabriel knew he had the heckler on the ropes. The barman, he could just make out through the stage lights, was muttering something to them.

"I don't come here to have my team or myself insulted."

"No? Where do you go, then?" Another old one. The crowd groaned at it, back on side with Gabriel, but criticising his choice. He shrugged.

"I'd come up with some lines of my own, but I wouldn't waste them on this sap. They'd go right over his head, which, for someone my size, is saying something."

Bam. Got him. The man flustered a few more times, but the audience at large ignored him. So did Gabriel. With a slight spark of smug satisfaction, he continued, and finished what had meant to be a ten minute set, but was now closer to fifteen.

Gabriel DiAngelo had been a stand up comic, professionally, for ten years. He'd been performing on stage since he was ten, which gave him twenty five years experience. Twenty five years of facing off against loud, half-drunk schmoes who think they could do the job as well as him. As he left the stage to all the smattered applause he could hope for from such a poor turnout, he grinned and headed for the bar. He didn't mind one bit. He would freely admit he was addicted to being up there in front of people, and he would probably die an addict, because no way could he ever get enough.

He had been about to reach the bar when a sharp pain shot across his backside. He whipped around, knowing already the exact cause.

"Pamela, you know how I react to things like that."

"I was hoping you would." Pamela smiled, holding her cane in one hand, and scratching the corner of her eye under her sunglasses with the other. "Action's been a little slow tonight."

"Maybe for you." Gabriel chuckled, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I suppose you heard that guy trying to tear me a new one?"

"Yes, and what's with all the old jokes? You been on a Marx Brothers marathon lately or something?"

"Tried and tested classics, Pammy. Now, giving that you just caned my ass for the fourth time this evening, I'm guessing you want something?"

"A drink would be nice."

"You're going on in five minutes, you can wait." Gabriel admonished, using his stern tone and everything. Pamela laughed.

"You're a real spoilsport sometimes, you know that?"

"Oh, ouch! Wounded!" Gabriel staggered into a nearby seat, and grabbed Pamela's hand. "You know I don't have many rules, but I will not let you start drinking before you go on stage."

"Fine." Pamela sniffed, poking him with the end of her cane. "Are you staying around for my set, or are you being a boring old man and going home?"

"Hey, less of the old. You'll be thirty five soon yourself."  
>"Not for a year yet. I take your lack of an answer to mean you're going home?"<p>

Gabriel made noncommittal noises. Pamela sighed.

"You know there's more to life than baking, eating and Stand up comedy."

"I know that!" Gabriel sighed, ladling on the incredulity. "There's Murdock, too."

Pamela held her arms out, and he hugged her again. She patted him on the back, and began to negotiate her way backstage. Not without one last parting shot;

"It says something about your life that I don't know if you mean your dog, or your childhood crush."

Gabriel sighed.

"Good night, Pamela."

He grabbed his coat and bag from the hanger by the door, and looked around the little pub as the occupants turned their attention to Pamela. Smiling, he backed out into the cold night as he heard Pamela begin her routine. He knew her material as well as he knew his own.

"Just to get this out of the way, yes, I am blind, no, that doesn't mean you can stop acting like you're paying attention. People often get quite surprised, but I suppose you don't see many blind comics. Well… I don't."

Lead to joke about how she lost her eyesight; lead into discussion about her home life, and her childhood. Gabriel pulled his jacket tighter around himself, heading back to his motel room. Tomorrow would be the last gig of their current tour. He could do tomorrow's gig, which was in Palo Alto, and then drive the half hour or so to Campbell. He was so glad he'd talked Pamela into starting and ending with California gigs. It meant he could go home, chill out and do nothing for the month or two he could stick around, before they started talking about booking up some more regional spots while they planned the next tour.

Was it tiring? Yes. Did he miss the nights of just chilling the fuck out and not having to worry about writing and memorising material? Yes. Would he change it? Not for the goddamned world.

Gabriel reached the motel, and collapsed onto his bed.

How was it he could spend three days in Texas and receive only the kindest, friendliest reaction from audience members, and then come to California and get a drunken, pissed off Texan heckler?

Life, man.

He pushed himself up, and scrabbled for the pen and paper he kept on the dresser, noting down the evening's events. There was probably some sort of joke or wry observation in there if he worded it right. He ran a hand through his golden-brown hair, scratching at his neck. He could probably do with going over his material; he'd been starting with the same line for the past year or so.

"I'm Gabriel DiAngelo. No, really. My parents were not only vindictive, but also ethnically inaccurate." A simple enough joke to ease people in. Yes, that was his real name, and yes, he was fully aware he wasn't the slightest bit Italian-American. His Great Grandfather had, believe it or not, won the name in a game of poker. He'd made a whole routine out of decrypting the Chinese whispers that had developed around it. Maybe he should cut that, though? Was it honestly funny?

He grumbled, and dropped the pen and paper on the nightstand, looking at the clock. It was barely nine thirty. He was disgustingly tired, given that it was barely nine thirty. Dear Christ, he hoped Pamela wasn't right about his getting old.

He had to find something to keep him up 'til at least twenty to. He wasn't ready to admit he could fall asleep at nine thirty.

He wondered if Castiel was still awake.

Dear baby brother Castiel. If he was awake, he was probably doing something very serious and boring, which he wouldn't appreciate being interrupted by his brother's phone call. Or even worse, he could be messing around with his on-again, off-again boyfriend who he refused to tell Gabriel anything about, which would be even more offensive to interrupt.

Gabriel dialled Castiel's number.

The phone rang a few times, before Castiel's scratchy, gravelly voice crackled down the wire.

"Hello, Castiel DiAngelo speaking. Who may I say is calling?"

"This is the society for outdated relics, we were wondering if you would like to donate yourself."

"Gabriel."

He very rarely managed to make Castiel laugh. Part of him felt it was more fun to irritate him than amuse him. Actually, all of him felt that way, but it would be good to see the scruffy haired weirdo crack a smile every now and then.

"How's my favourite guy?"

"I'm fine, Gabriel."

"I was talking about Murdock."

"Murdock is well." Castiel was dead-pan. Gabriel sighed, wishing he had called Balthazar instead. He wouldn't have known what was going on, but he would have been funnier about it. "He's been slightly off his food, but I believe this is just absence from his master. "Pining", I believe it is called."

"Aww. Give him a cuddle for me. I should be back tomorrow afternoon for a little bit, so I can take him off your hands."

"Yes, Gabriel. How is Pamela?"

"As sassy as ever. She's still at the bar; I left early."

"I see."

Castiel went oddly silent. Gabriel wondered if he'd lost signal.

"Castiel?"

"Happy birthday, brother. I have to go; Murdock has wandered into the kitchen suspiciously dirty."

"Takes after his Daddy. Alright, see you tomorrow, Castiel."

"Goodbye."

Castiel hung up, and Gabriel put his phone on the nightstand with the pen and paper, lying perfectly still for a moment. Eventually, he managed to stir enough energy to change into boxers and a wife-beater shirt. He glanced at the clock.

Nine thirty five.

He snorted, settling down in the bed. Thirty five, he decided, was definitely not a good number.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel loved student audiences.

In his experience, it was something of a `love them or hate them` split of opinions. Gabriel, personally, could not think of a better audience. Students were always dying for a laugh, dying to let off some steam. They were usually just drunk enough to be eating out of the palm of his hand, and any that got out of control were easily shut up.

As far as he was concerned, a student audience was candy-from-a-baby levels of ease.

Pamela, conversely, couldn't stand them. It was as such that Gabriel promised to stick around once his set had finished, to listen to hers and give her moral support. Well, as far as "moral support" went with him, which meant he would probably start teasing her and demanding to know why she booked a gig at a student-oriented bar if she didn't like getting student audiences.

He yawned, and sat down at the bar, enjoying the ten minute interval while Pamela prepared. It was a nice bar; intimate but stylish, with decent lights and sound. The barman helped the easy-on-the-eyes atmosphere.

Gabriel smiled up at him.

He was tall. Like, Superman tall, and muscled. He was also, Gabriel mentally slapped himself, probably young enough to be his kid.

"Can I get you anything?"

"You any good at cocktails?"

The barman grinned, and jerked his head at the selection of fruit juices behind him.

"Don't ask for anything too old school and I should be ok."

"Hmm… Daiquiri easy enough for you?"

"Please."

The barman rolled his eyes, and grabbed a cocktail glass and a shaker. Gabriel watched him carefully as he added the sugar syrup, lime juice and white rum, and shook all of the ingredients with expert hands. He noticed Gabriel's eyes on him, and threw the shaker in the air, catching it with his other hand, daring him to comment.

Gabriel raised an approving eyebrow right back at him, nodding slightly and breaking into a smile. The barman smiled with him, shaking his head as he strained the Daiquiri into the glass, presenting it to Gabriel on a white paper napkin. He watched intently, as Gabriel went excruciatingly slowly through the process of smelling and tasting the cocktail, as though it was a fine wine.

After what he had deemed a comically long time, Gabriel conceded.

"Very good, young padawan. How much?"

"It's on me." The barman grinned, leaning against the counter. "A thanks for a good set."

Gabriel was not one to turn down free drinks, but he wasn't one to take heedless compliments, either.

"Hardly my best stuff."

"I spend so much time listening to students in open mics who think they're funny… Believe me, you're like an oasis of brilliance in a comedy desert."

Gabriel chuckled, appreciating it.

"Gabriel, right? Sam Winchester." He held his hand out, and Gabriel shook it gladly.

"Pleasure to meet you. So what's a nice young man like you doing tending bar for a bunch of snobby law students?"

"Uh… I'm one of them." Sam grinned, seemingly relishing in Gabriel's conversational blunder. "I'm working part time."

"Oh…"

"Surprised?"

"Well, you don't look like these other kids. You're… ripped." _Dammit_. He covered, thinking fast. "And healthy. And human."

"Lawyer jokes. Original."

"I'll stop telling them when they stop being relevant."

Sam shook his head, pausing momentarily to serve someone else, giving Gabriel a moment to mentally slap himself. The higher reasoning portion of his brain was demanding to know what the hell he thought he was playing at. When he'd finished serving the other customer, Sam returned to Gabriel

"You know, that was the one thing that didn't sell me on your act."

"Hmm?"

"You've got this whole `I don't give a crap` thing going on, which is a good attitude to have, but it's a bit strong, you know? You don't really get people on side with you enough."

"I'll bare that in mind." Gabriel tutted, as the lights came up on stage, and Pamela began her act.

Gabriel joined in loudly with the applause, wolf-whistling for good measure before returning to his Daiquiri.

"She's good. Friend of yours?"

"That's one word for it. Friend, confidant, arch nemesis… we have an interesting relationship."

"Ah."

"What?"

Sam shook his head, looking at the bar, a slightly embarrassed smile on his lips.

"I just… for a moment, I was expecting you to say she was your girlfriend or something."

Gabriel's interest perked again, against his voice of higher reasoning screaming protests involving words like "age appropriate" and "jail bait".

"Why, would you care if she was?"

"I… just…" Sam blustered, ducking his head again. Gabriel's smile spread into a wicked grin. Sam shrugged. "So sue me, I'm twenty five and have a soft spot for sarcasm. I'm a barman; I've developed a habit of flirting."

"Not one I will encourage you to break."

Sam grinned at Gabriel, who cleared his throat and looked away, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Oh God… I'm sorry, I shouldn't be doing this. I'm way too old to be picking up guys in bars."

"I wouldn't say that. You're… what, thirty two?"

"Thirty five, but thank you."

"My brother's thirty two; he still picks up randoms in bars all the time. I wouldn't say you're too old."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. _Now wasn't that a loaded statement?_

"Well, it's…"

"… such a lovely audience, but it would be a lot nicer if my so-called friend wasn't talking over my set trying to pick up some bar-lush." Pamela's voice cut through their conversation, making Gabriel flinch, and exchange an awkward smile with Sam. He turned around on his barstool, chided as Pamela stood on stage with her arms crossed, waiting.

"Sorry, Pam."

"You're talking over the one comic in the world with super-hearing. I'm not sure if that's rude or stupid."

"I said sorry, bat-woman, it'll never happen again."

"Bar-lush! Stay away from him, he's small and sneaky. You know the saying `the best things come in small packages`? He's the exception that proves the rule."

Having chastised her friend, she continued with her act. Gabriel turned an ashamed grin on Sam.

"I should stop distracting you. You'll want to watch this." He muttered into his Daiquiri. "It's going to be her last ever show."

"Why? She quitting?"

"No, I'm going to kill her."

Sam laughed at this, before grabbing a pen from behind the bar and taking Gabriel's cocktail napkin. He scribbled something down.

"Listen, I may only be a bar-tending law student, but I'm always up for conversation, and I'm practiced at editing. You ever want someone to look through or discuss your act with or… um… maybe if you just want to… hang out, or whatever…" He trailed off, losing his confidence as he handed the napkin over to Gabriel. Gabriel couldn't help staring at the younger man like he was half mad.

"Seriously? You're giving me your phone number?"

"It's cool if you're not interested, I just…"

"Whoa, no, I'm very interested. Just… _You_ are giving _me_ your phone number… Maybe you'll want to talk to Pamela, she can help you come to terms with your blindness."

Sam grinned again, bashful, and shrugged.

"Like I said, I have a soft spot for funny guys."

Sam went about serving other customers after that, and Gabriel watched Pamela. Not Sam. He certainly didn't watch Sam as his hands danced through the exchange of drinks and cash, and he most definitely didn't watch Sam as he reached up to where the glasses were kept, his white shirt lifting just enough to draw attention to a well toned back… and he certainly wasn't looking at Sam's ass, even if it was possibly the most gorgeous ass he'd seen since he was twenty.

He'd kill anyone who said he was.

Pamela tied up her set, to rounds of applause, and she and Gabriel left together. Sam shot Gabriel a smile and a half-aborted wave. Gabriel smiled back, and nearly walked into a closed door. Thank God, Sam had already returned his attention to his customers and didn't see it. Pamela waited until they were outside to begin her chiding.

"Come on then. Who was it?"

"I'm sure I don't know…"

"Don't even try it, you dick, I know you were flirting with someone. Spill."

Gabriel sighed. He couldn't see sense in hiding it from Pamela.

"His name is Sam."

"Oh, back on the boys, are we?"

"I was never… ok, one, he's a man. I checked, it's all legal. Two, I was never "off" men, I just… happened to have a string of women. Luck of the draw."

"Hmm." Pamela didn't sound convinced. She linked arms with him, and they walked towards his car.

"Keep talking."

"He's… nice. Friendly."

"Hot?"

"Smoking."

"Tall?"

"How would you know?"

"You have a thing for tall people."

"What? I do not."

"Kali was the shortest of your conquests, and she was still nearly six foot."

Gabriel flustered for a moment, before letting her win that one. Yes, he "let" her win, prove otherwise.

"Fine."

"So who started it?"

"Uh… he did, I think. He gave me his number without my asking for it."

"Are you going to call him?"

Gabriel blinked as he dropped Pamela's arm, opening the doors to the car. He held her door open for her, made sure she was in safe, and then walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat. Eventually, he nodded.

"Maybe."

"I think you should." She had dropped her light-hearted, teasing tone, and held her hand out for him. He gripped it tight, before patting her on the arm and moving the car into drive.

"I think, right now, I want to go home, see my dog, and get some sleep."


	3. Chapter 3

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the best sleep comes from sleeping in your own bed after weeks of harsh motel mattresses. It was under observation of such a truth that Gabriel was enjoying a particularly delicious dream involving himself, a certain Law student bar-man, Pamela Anderson's chocolate gateaux delivery company, and the sense that it was imperative they found the tablets of Moses, which were for some reason on Saturn.

It was just getting to the good bit (read: zero gravity, chocolate covered three-way) when Murdock decided to leap up onto the bed and straight onto his master's stomach.

Murdock was not a big dog; he was a Jack Russell Terrier, and a small one at that, but he was heavy. Gabriel was punched out of his dreams, winded and more than a little annoyed.

"Ugh… Good morning to you too. Is that it, hmm? `Welcome home, Daddy, here, let me pulverise your intestines`, is that it?" Murdock simply cocked his head and poked his tongue out, raising his ears in the way that he damn well knew Gabriel couldn't resist. Scowling, Gabriel scratched the dog behind the ear and stood up.

"Alright, I'll get you your damn breakfast… but it's a risky game you play; a few inches lower and you'd be out in the yard, as soon as Daddy managed to walk again."

Gabriel lumbered through his apartment, to the kitchen. It was small, but it was all a single guy with a small dog needed; entertaining space, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Stylish, of course, because Gabriel was nothing if not aesthetically minded. It was all sleek whites and plush carpets, open plan with big windows. He was pulling on his bathrobe as he stumbled through to the kitchen, pouring out dry food for Murdock and coffee for himself, before sitting down at the little kitchen table. He raised an eyebrow at the contented canine, who was already nose down in the bowl.

"Missed you too, mutt."

Gabriel spent a good five minutes debating whether he should edge towards something healthy for breakfast… wholegrain toast, bran cereal, fruit… He giggled at the idea for another few minutes before slapping some pop tarts into the toaster.

The intercom buzzed.

"Al's Nitro-glycerine emporium, you break it, you buy it." Gabriel answered, wondering exactly who would dare to come visit him the first morning back after a tour, especially before ten. "Al's not in today, he bought it last week."

"… It's Castiel."

Of course it was. Gabriel rolled his eyes and pressed the button to let Castiel in. He went to rescue his pop tarts, and was just waiting for them to cool down to a level where they wouldn't boil his skin away when he tried to pick them up when Castiel entered, holding a rather sad and scruffy looking teddy bear.

"One of Murdock's toys was left in my apartment."

"Thanks."

"How was the tour?"

"Not bad." Gabriel shrugged, as Castiel sat down opposite him. "Not good… average. I need some new material."

"The same as every other tour, then."

"Well… I wouldn't say that."

"It's what you say when you return from every tour. Therefore I must deduce that it was the same as every other tour."

"Oh god, he broke up with you again." Gabriel sighed, plucking experimentally at his pop tart, dividing his attention between Castiel and breakfast in a manner that only experienced elder siblings can manage. "What happened this time?"

"I… I don't know what you're…"

"Oh come on. Every time he breaks up with you, you turn into some bizarre cross of Robocop and Sherlock Holmes, psychoses and all. And right now you're sounding like you did after Mom and Dad shipped you off to boarding school for five years, so don't try to deny it. What happened?"

Castiel scowled at Gabriel, before standing to make himself some coffee. Gabriel worked quietly at his still cooling pop tarts.

"I merely suggested to him that, since you were returning from your tour, perhaps we could begin the process of meeting each other's families."

"And he said no?"

"He had what I believe you would term as a… a `freak out`." Castiel admitted, somewhat sheepishly. Gabriel just stared at him.

"Castiel… he's been doing this to you for…what, two years now? Two years of never getting to any stage of actual commitment with the guy… you're going to take him back, aren't you?"

"He might not want me back." Castiel suddenly seemed very interested in the patterns on the side of his coffee mug. Gabriel had to fight back an exasperated sigh.

"Castiel. Over the last two years, he's probably dumped you about sixteen times, and every time he's sent you a few drunken texts and you've gone running back to him. Why not just… hold out?"

Castiel looked at his brother as though he had suggested robbing the first national bank with water pistols and red noses. Gabriel rolled his eyes. Maybe his brother wanted to be in some weird, dom-sub sort of arrangement. Whatever, he thought, not his business. Right now, his business was coffee, sugar, unpacking, and taking Murdock on a long walk. And definitely not thinking about Sam. At all. Even if his gorgeous hair kept flashing through his mind like a perverse Pantene advert.

"Have you met anyone, recently?" Castiel attempted to sound casual, but the way he had to drag his eyes up from his coffee mug put Gabriel on edge.

"No one special." He lied. Uh, said. He… _said._

"No one?"

"No."

There was a long pause, as the two brothers glared at each other across the table.

"Ok." Castiel broke away first, his eyes glancing down to where Murdock had picked up his teddy bear and started gnawing it. "How's Pamela?"

"Oh crap, when did she tell you?"

"Just now as I was coming up the stairs."

Gabriel found himself biting back a snarl. Silently, he cursed his friendship with Pamela Barnes. Not even twenty four hours at home and she's already started a war. Well, by the rules of tradition, he was now allowed… nay, expected, to do something just as mortifying to her. He now had something to think about instead of Sam. Not that he was thinking about Sam anyway. And if he was, it was only because Castiel brought it up.

"Are you going to call him?"

"Maybe. In a few days. He's a busy guy, I'm sure."

"If we're going to be disinherited for our lifestyle choices, you may as well attempt a relationship in that vein."

"What are you implying?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"Well… admitting our sexual preferences to our family wasn't easy for either one of us. Perhaps harder for you, since you were the first to admit it… but it has been some years now since you last had a proper relationship with a man."

Gabriel flustered for a moment, torn between the different defence mechanisms of outright denying, pointing out that Castiel's relationship was hardly any more "proper", and just throwing a pop tart in his face. Gabriel scowled.

"I might call him. Like I said. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to actually do things today. We can't all be like you, and have the extensive amounts of university holiday time off." Gabriel tutted, finishing his breakfast and heading back to his bedroom to get dressed. Castiel exchanged significant glances with Murdock.

(-*-)

By ten thirty, Gabriel was dressed and unpacked, and had his laundry on. By twelve, he'd walked Murdock, come back, and put his laundry on to dry before sitting down to try getting down some new material. At five past twelve, he gave up on that and went grocery shopping instead. He got back at one, spent ten minutes trying to get material down, gave up again, and made himself some lunch.

Finally, by seven o'clock, he'd managed to get an at least semi-decent ten minute set of material… well, a first draft anyway. He was now sat at the table, staring at his empty dinner plate, and resolutely not staring at his phone.

He was resolutely not staring at his phone, because his phone, along with the carefully preserved cocktail napkin, were on the end table by the couch, some ten feet behind him. Gabriel drummed his fingers against the table. Murdock trotted up to him, watching him carefully.

"I shouldn't call him. It's too soon; I'd look desperate."

Murdock tilted his head.

"I know I'm desperate, I know, but he doesn't need to know that. And… you know, he's a hot young guy, I'm sure he doesn't want me trailing after him."

Murdock continued to stare at his master.

Gabriel glanced, starting to break under the dog's stare. He reminded himself that the dog probably didn't know what was going on, almost certainly didn't have a grasp of the complexities of adult human relationships, and quite definitely didn't have mind-reading abilities.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

"All right, all right, I'll call him."

Gabriel practically fell out of his chair, grabbing his phone and dialling the number. He cleared his throat as it rang, really hoping his smooth charm would kick in at some point so he didn't sound as ridiculous as he felt.

He was so busy worrying about what to say, he didn't realise the phone wasn't ringing any more.

"Hello?"

"Oh! Um… Gabriel. Here. Hi. From the bar?" Gabriel winced, slapping himself on the forehead as he heard what he'd just said.

"Gabriel! Hey. Good timing, I just got off work."

"Well, my career kind of rides on good timing… so… that's good." Gabriel winced again, wondering exactly what part f his brain had started this horrible conversation, and what qualifications it had.

"So… what can I do you for?"

In the space of three sentences, the phone call was starting to resemble one of those British Carry On films from the 60s. Gabriel was practically banging his head against the coffee table to blot out the urge to make incredibly inappropriate jokes. Why did he care so much? He usually picked up his partners through being an arrogant dick, but for some reason he felt like treating Sam with anything less than friendly respect would make it… dirty. Cheap.

He sat down on the couch, clearing his throat.

"I was just wondering if your offer still stood of hanging out some time, or if you were just drunk last night."

"Ha. Yeah, I'd like to see you. What are you thinking? Dinner?"

Gabriel bit back a chuckle.

"Wow, no beating around the bush there, huh?"

"Believe me, with a history like mine, you learn to avoid giving out mixed signals."

"Ok… ambiguous and intriguing statements aside… Shall we say Wednesday?" It was Sunday today, so Gabriel deemed Wednesday to be soon enough o suggest interest, but not so soon as to be pushy. Sam thought for a moment.

"No, Wednesday's no good for me. I've got classes all day, then I'm helping my brother out at the Auto-yard… Thursday?"

"Thursday's good. Seven, maybe?"

"Sounds great. Where do you want to meet?"  
>"Uh… you know Couer de Couers, the French restaurant a little way from the bar?"<p>

"Yeah, I know it."

"I'll pick you up from there and we'll go for McDonalds." Gabriel grinned, hearing Sam huff an "I'm pretending that I'm not impressed" laugh.

"We'll meet there and see what happens."

"Alright. See you then."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Gabriel hung up the phone, placed it calmly on the table, and then pumped his arm in victory, before flopping back onto the couch. Murdock hurried to join him, leeching off of his master's good mood.

This time, Gabriel thought, maybe this time he'd do it right.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam let out a sort of half-hearted bear growl as he let himself fall face forward onto the slowly deteriorating couch.

"Y'ever think that maybe doing that is what's breaking it?"

From somewhere deep within, Sam mustered up enough energy to raise his middle finger in the direction of his brother's voice.

"Alright, I'll bite. Hard day?"

"Law school sucks." Sam barked into a cushion, really not wanting to move.

Like, at all.

Ever.

The world could come to him, if it wanted him so badly, and he would advise the correct course of action without even stirring. He would become known as Wiseman Winchester, who reached enlightenment through the medium of cushion, and when he died, they would make a bronze statue of this very moment, when he committed his life to the search for eternal comfort in body and mind.

Dean put a stop to that when he threw a balled up sock at him. Sam sighed, and reluctantly dragged himself into the sitting position. He knew Dean was only bugging him out of concern. Which kind of made it worse, since he couldn't really be angry at him for it. Douche.

"I can stick it out." Sam nodded, more to reassure himself than Dean. "I'm in my last year. In summer, I take the Bar. Then it's no more bitchy lecturers or soul-crushing classmates. I can stick it out."

"Shoulda dropped out when I did." Dean grinned, ducking as Sam threw his sock back at him. He grabbed it and put it back on his foot. "You working this evening?"

"No. it's Monday; I never work on Monday."

"Oh yeah… well… see you."

"Wait, what?"

"Going out." Dean grinned, crossing over to the door and wriggling his feet into his shoes. "I probably won't be back before you go to class tomorrow. So have fun with your bubble bath, Samantha."

"Where are you going?"

"Later, Sammy."

Dean grabbed his jacket and keys, the door slamming behind him. Sam growled.

"Jerk!" He knew Dean could still hear him. He threw himself back into the couch cushions and counted to ten, if only to stop him from teepeeing Dean's room.

His phone bleeped in his pocket, and he took it from his pocket, laughing as he flipped it open to see the message.

"Bitch."

Damn Dean.

Sighing, Sam looked around the living room, and decided he should probably tidy away his books and notes.

He wondered where Dean would be going. He was pretty sure he was in an "off again" phase of his "on again, off again" relationship, so it stood to reason that he was going to pick up some random woman and go to a motel. That was Dean's thing.

He'd have a fling with his guy that would last however long, the guy would intimidate his masculinity, Dean would leave, go hook up with random chicks, get drunk, beg to be taken back, and all the while deny that he had ever been in a relationship.

Sam just really wished Dean would hurry up and admit he was gay; he knew Bobby and Ellen really didn't care, as long as they were happy. Hell, when he'd come out to them, Ellen had decided to take him out to bars and try to hook him up with people. He admired her energy, even if it was a little weird in practice.

Wearily, Sam stared around the mostly tidy student flat. That was what it was, that was all it was. Two bedrooms, one kitchen/communal room, one bathroom. "Cosy", was what the ad had sold it as. "Small" was the word actual people used. But it was cheap, which really was all Sam and Dean cared about. Shrugging off his jacket and unbuckling his jeans, Sam walked through into the bathroom.

He would have a bath. Not that he would ever let Dean know his guess had been spot on.

Hey, you try working four shifts a week at a bar, two shifts a week at the auto-yard, and still doing all the crap that came with being in Law school. Sometimes you need to soak your aching muscles in sensuously hot water. There was nothing wrong with that, and, Sam reasoned, it was a pleasure that had an added vindictiveness. Dean would never know how awesomely amazing it was, because the bubble bath is a reward for the man who is comfortable in his sexuality.

He was just running the taps when his phone blipped on the couch. Sam went to check it, and was a little put out to see it was from Dean again.

"BTW, you'll need to buy more milk. Don't wait up and don't call me."

Jerk. Sam shook his head, dropping his phone on the couch.

He didn't want to read texts from Dean.

He knew who he did want to read texts from, he thought, as he stepped into the bath and carefully reclined into the ever-so-slightly-too-hot water.

As he lay back, he felt a smile creeping across his face as he remembered the way Gabriel had practically shone under the stage lights, his wry, mischievous grin shooting an arrow straight through Sam's heart. Shooting sensations through a few other body parts, as well, if he was being honest. But then, to meet him after the show, and to know he was just as quick, as self deprecating… But there had been something else. Something apprehensive, cynical… he intrigued Sam greatly, and there was nothing Sam loved more than a puzzle.

Thursday. That was a little over three days away. No big deal.

He traced lazy swirls through the water with his big toe. He always got excited before going on dates. Excited, then panicky, then slightly nauseous, then excited again. He had learned to enjoy this stage while it lasted.

(-*-)

"I cannot believe you, Gabriel DiAngelo. You're a bad person."

"Oh, please." Gabriel shook his head, moving his hand from where he had been scratching Murdock's ears to take a sip from his cappuccino.

Pamela sat across from him, the autumn sun giving them reason to sit outside and bask in front of their favourite coffee shop. The sun glinted off of the metal chairs and tables, and made the yellow flagstone floors seem unnaturally bright and clean. Even Murdock was lounging in a way that would rival the most seasoned pool chair hog. Pamela's scowl was the only dark cloud in an otherwise blue sky.

"You flirt through my set, you call him without telling me, you organise a date without telling me, and now you're just making things up."

"I'm not!" Gabriel sat up, glaring at her.

"He can't be as gorgeous as you say, he just can't be." She sighed, running her fingers over the edge of her coffee cup.

"Why not?"

"Because I would just die, Gabriel." She sniffed dramatically. "Anyway, you're supposed to be writing material for the next tour. You're the one who always complains it's not up to scratch."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I'll write new stuff if and when it comes to me. So far, the only thing I got on my notepad was the death wail of inspiration. And that was a one liner."

"Aww." Pamela's face softened. She held out her hand to him, and he took it.

"I can't come up with anything. Anything I do write, I decide I hate it five minutes later. Maybe I should take a break from the circuits, and just live for a bit."

"You say that." Pamela smiled. "But you know by the end of the month, you'll be dying to hit the road."

"Maybe." Gabriel sighed, taking another drink from his cappuccino. "Hey…"

"What?"

"There's a guy by the counter who is definitely checking you out."

"What? Really?"

"Don't look!"

She hit him.

(-*-)

Sam finished his classes early on Thursday, and had no shifts to do. It meant that every week he would have the long stretch from midday to midnight which was just his time, to do with as he wished. And tonight, he would make the most of it. He spent the early hours of the afternoon catching up on any pressing assignments, research or chores, just to make sure that he was completely at ease.

So, of course, by half past six he was half mad with stress.

"Dude." Den laughed from his seat in front of the TV. "Chill."

"Yeah, whatever, Dean." Sam was turning over couch cushions and looking under chairs. "Have you seen my wallet? Dean I can't find it! I need…" He stormed into his bedroom, still talking, not aware that Dean could neither hear him, nor give a shit.

Dean took Sam's wallet from it's place on top of the TV set (AKA right goddamn there where he left it) and held it out to him as he re-entered the room. Sam, for his part, looked chided.

"Don't know why you're so worried, Sammy. It's just a date."

"Yeah, but I… I like this guy, and I think it could be good."

"Yeah I guess. No need to tear the place apart looking for your wallet, though. I mean, doesn't the man usually pay?"

This earned Dean a very haughty bitch-face.

"Ooh. Terrifying. Don't use those eyes on him, Sammy, he might think you're inviting him to something."

"You're an ass."

Sam snapped, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. Dean just laughed and went back to watching TV. Was he comfortable with Sam dating an older man? No. Could he stop him? No. So he would deal with it the best way he knew how, which roughly translated as teasing the shit out of Sam.


	5. Chapter 5

`Les Couer De Couers` was a restaurant which slotted into the growing category of what Gabriel called "faux posh". It was snooty enough to warrant a dress code, but not so much that the waiters expected you to know anything about the wine you ordered. It was an organisation which worked hard to charitably give rich douchebags the ability to look pretentious, and on any given night there would be several popped collars and overly clunky wristwatches dotted around the restaurant.

But they served a prime rib steak that made Gods cry, and a chocolate soufflé that could surpass the joys of sex, and thereby doom the human race.

Sam waited outside, checking his watch every now and then, noting that it was still five to seven and he should calm the hell down, and then stomping his feet to guard against the chill wind. He would have grabbed a coat, but he only had practical (read: bulky and ugly) hand-me-downs from Dean and Bobby.

"I have to say, you are one of the finest-looking street urchins I've ever seen."

The voice made him jump, but he broke into a smile as he saw Gabriel approaching from the car park, sliding his keys back into his jacket pocket. He wore a black button-down shirt over a bottle-green tee, with black jeans. Clever, Sam thought, stylish, and effortless. Just like the man himself.

Gabriel, meanwhile, noted Sam's light blue button up shirt, black dress slacks and tie, and mentally cursed himself for not putting in any effort. He had the distinct impression he looked like a lazy street performer next to Sam's `future successful professional`. Still, he soothed his nerves, thinking back to when he last had to help Pamela prepare for a date; at least neither of them had the myriad fashion concerns that women did.

"Hey." Sam smiled, a slight nervousness in his eyes. The good kind of nervous, though, Gabriel hoped.

"Hi. Shall we go in?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam ducked his head, hunching his shoulders and putting his hands in his pockets as he and Gabriel walked in. Gabriel smiled pleasantly, his brain already compiling a file of deductions based on Sam's body language. If he ever decided to use his people reading skills for any purpose other than getting laid or taking down hecklers, he could probably give Sherlock Holmes a run for his money.

They were seated by a window, looking out onto the darkening streets.

"Sure is getting dark early." Sam started, by way of an ice breaker. "But then, I suppose it's the same as every September. Funny how it always surprises everyone, though."

"Mm." Gabriel agreed in the most non-committal way possible, before grabbing a menu. "Heard it."

"Sorry?"

"The weather, religion and mother-in-laws…" He looked up, grinning. "The three subjects that have been discussed to death. Let's talk about something more interesting."

"Oh…" Sam flushed slightly, before grabbing his own menu. "They have soufflé. I don't think I've ever tried soufflé."

"Do you like cheesy meals?"

"Not really…"

"Then you won't like the savoury one. The chocolate one, on the other hand, I would sell my own kidneys to eat." Gabriel seemed to be delighting in shooting down attempts at conversation. He was grinning in a way that made him look oddly feline, and made Sam feel like a particularly ill-fated mouse. Gabriel lowered his menu, and locked eyes with Sam, daring him to back down.

"How's work at the bar?"

"Good." Sam felt a sense of indignation rising. Was his date getting some sick kicks out of trying to dominate the conversation? Sam sat up straight, staring right back. He wasn't going to be pushed around by the smaller, older man.

"How's Law school?"

"Fine."

There was a long pause.

After a moment, Gabriel seemed to back down, his smile merging with some sort of genuine joy, as he poured himself a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table. He looked up at Sam, his eyes suddenly much warmer.

"I like you. You've got sticking power."

"What?"

"I like to make sure any dates I have will be able to put up with me when I'm in my more… what's a polite way of saying it…"

"Dickish?" Sam supplied, refusing to let on that he was both relieved and amused.

"That's good. They teach you that word in Law school? "Your honour, it's clear to see that the plaintiff was acting in a particularly dickish manner"…"

"I can think of a few other words."

Gabriel shot Sam a roguish smirk, and, as much as he fought it, Sam found himself smiling back. Gabriel opened his menu again.

"So, enough testing. What'll it be? I could go for a salmon Nicoise…" Sam's pretty sure Gabriel pronounced the French words wrong on purpose, because no one could miss that badly. "How about you?"

"I might just stick with the steak." Sam smiled. "It's hard to go wrong, there."

Gabriel cut him a wry grin, before switching to a polite smile as a waiter approached them. What followed was a string of such bizarrely pronounced words that Sam found himself biting the insides of his lips to stop himself from laughing.

"Bonn Jewer, Serv-urr, I would like the Sal-mon ni-coy-sie, and my friend here will have the prih-may reeb stee-ack, sill voh-us play-it. To drink… a bottle of the merlot?"

He turned to Sam, asking completely straight faced. Sam fought back laughter as he nodded. Gabriel turned back to the waiter.

"A bot-t-lee of the hoh-us merr-lot, garr-kon."

The waiter glared at Gabriel.

"Do you have to do that every time you come in here?"

"You know I do." Gabriel smiled, delighting in how much he was annoying the waiter. As the waiter departed, Sam raised an eyebrow.

"So you're a regular here?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"Dates, birthdays, special occasions."

"Do you have many?" Sam aimed for and missed a casual tone. Gabriel smirked.

"Not as many as I once did, more than I'm comfortable with, and enough to remember why I hate them. Although not necessarily in that order."

Sam smirked.

"You're one of those guys, aren't you? Never give a straight answer and fob off everything with a witty comment."

"Oh, you think I'm witty?" Gabriel feigned looking flattered, and Sam threw his napkin at him. Gabriel smirked again, seemingly in his element. "Alright, we can do the gushy "getting-to-know each other" thing, if you want. But I warn you, some of my answers might actually be true."

Sam pulled a condescending scowl, before sitting back in his seat.

"How did you get into stand-up?"

"I've always been a dramatic." He shrugged. "Did my first stand up gig at fifteen, and never looked back. It was…" Gabriel stopped for a moment, looking as though he'd never really considered it before. "It was like, for once, I could get up in front of everyone, say whatever the hell I wanted to, and people would expect it to be weird, or wrong, or whatever. No one can disagree with you when you're the one with the microphone, you know?"

He grinned, looking slightly sheepish.

"What about you? What possessed you to become a lawyer?"

Sam laughed, rolling his eyes.

"I've been asking myself the same thing…" He shrugged, smiling as the waiter returned with their food. Sam's plate was placed carefully, with a courteous smile. Gabriel's was delivered with barely concealed contempt. He let a smug grin creep across his face. Sam rolled his eyes and continued.

"I want to be a defence lawyer. I've… let's just say I've always been kind of passionate about the justice system." He shrugged, picking up a gleaming silver fork. He ducked his head again in embarrassment, and Gabriel added more notes to his mental file.

"I'm going to guess it's not first date material?"

"Not a good first date." Sam agreed, cutting into his steak.

"Hmm… very tempted to be inappropriate and ask anyway, but we'll go onto the second interesting part of that statement." He speared some chicken and vegetables. "Do I detect a hint of reluctance in your voice?"

Sam shrugged, looking abashed.

"I'm not so… passionate about it, any more. I don't know, it's probably just getting tired of law school. A lot of people drop out in the last year. Hell, some people drop out during the bar exam."

"Yikes. Sounds almost as difficult as my job." Gabriel grinned. "So what would you do instead?"  
>"That's just it." Sam shrugged, pausing with a forkful of steak half way to his mouth. "I have no idea what else I could ever do."<p>

The steak finally found its way to Sam's mouth, and he stopped speaking all together to marvel at it. Gabriel was sure he even heard a groan escape the man's lips as he closed his eyes.

Gabriel remained cool, calm, collected, and in utter denial about how jealous he was of that hunk of dead cow.

"You might have a promising job as a porn star if you keep that up." Gabriel smirked. Sam's eyes snapped open, and his face was caught somewhere between an embarrassed smile and a glare that could light fireworks. Gabriel just held his smirk.

"Sad thing is, it wouldn't be the first time I'd been left in the middle of a date in favour of the food. One girl actually asked me to go sit at another table."  
>Sam scowled for a moment more, before giving in to his curiosity.<p>

"That didn't really happen."

"Mmm… maybe."

They continued with the date, eating, talking, and each trying to catch the other out. They managed to learn about each other, and Gabriel's mental analysis of Sam continued.

Gabriel had a dog. Sam loved dogs, cats… animals in general.

Sam didn't really care for sports, but supported Harvard's college football team, because old habits die hard. Gabriel had no real patience for any sports, but could put up with ice hockey because it moved at about ten times the speed.

Gabriel was midway through discussing his current writer's block, comparing to Sam's lack of enthusiasm for his schoolwork, when Sam's phone rang.

"Ugh." He sighed, rolling his eyes as the display lit up with Dean's name. He was very tempted to just reject the call straight away, but he knew that would earn him a world of pain.

"Sorry." He shot an embarrassed smile over the top of the table to Gabriel. "I should probably take this. It's my brother. He's going through some relationship stuff, and he has a habit of freaking out."

"The only thing worse than his relationship skills is his timing." Gabriel nodded. "Sounds familiar. But then, being the older brother means I pounded that habit out of Castiel in my late teens. Thinking he could talk to me." Gabriel rolled his eyes melodramatically, before smiling. "Go answer your phone."

Sam smiled thankfully, and stood from the table, already answering it.

"Dean… look, I'm… Seriously? Now? You're killing me, man…"

Sam disappeared out into the lobby, and Gabriel couldn't help watching him go.

Well, not watching, per se. Looking. Glancing. Barely even that, just… observing.

Observing Sam's well sculpted, amazingly attractive… back. Shoulders? Somehow neither option seemed more innocent than admitting he was ogling the younger man's ass.

Screw it, Gabriel decided, taking a drink of wine. He was already damned one way or another; he may as well enjoy the view while he could.

One brief phone call later, Sam had returned to the table, smiling apologetically and still looking mildly annoyed.

"Sorry… I hate my brother, sometimes." He smiled as he sat down.

"Dare I ask for gossip?"

"He's… it's nothing."

"No, come on. Indulge me."

Sam raised his eyebrows. Gabriel rested his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers. He rested his chin on his hands and batted his eyelashes. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean's had an ongoing bi-polar relationship with some guy. He won't tell me anything about it, other than the fact that he used to be a professor at Dean's college before he dropped out. The thing is, for all the amount they've hooked up and fallen out, Dean still won't actually admit he's gay. Or even bi. He's such a closet case."

"Wow." Gabriel laughed. "Leave out the closet case bit, and that's oddly similar to my own dear brother. Maybe I should give you Castiel's number for Dean."

"I don't think getting them to hook up will help things…"

"Hah. No, Castiel's a therapist. In between psychology lectures."

"Maybe." Sam shrugged. "Dean's never been one for sharing his feelings, but if I bitch at him enough, I could probably get him to go."

Gabriel huffed laughter as he finished the last of his meal, before stopping and looking thoughtfully at the tablecloth, before laughing again.

"What?" Sam looked at him as he finished the last of his steak. Gabriel shook his head.

"Just thinking. Your brother the in-the-closet commitment-phobe, my brother the unrequited romantic."  
>"Yeah..?"<p>

"Wouldn't it be hilarious if their mystery guys were each other?"

Sam snorted back a laugh at that.

"Well now I have to make him go to counselling. It's just too good an opportunity to pass up."

"Man after my own heart." Gabriel smiled, their eyes locking in with surprising tenderness as the waiter returned to take away their plates and take orders for their dessert.

(-*-)

"Ok, chocolate soufflé is my new favourite." Sam grinned, his hand brushing Gabriel's as they left the restaurant, causing both of them to catch their breaths for a moment. They exchanged a slightly awkward glance, before Gabriel motioned towards the car park.

"Told you you'd like it. Need a lift home?"

"Uh, yeah, actually." Sam smiled, not doing much to hide his curiosity towards what kind of car Gabriel would be driving.

"Don't get your hopes up." Gabriel rolled his eyes. Sam recognised the car instantly as a thunderbird, although it looked like it had seen better days.

"Wow. Stand up pays well, then?"

"I had a choice between a killer bachelor pad and a killer car. I went with the bachelor pad." Gabriel wandered around to the driver's side, not taking his eyes off of Sam. "Not that I'd invite you up there on the first date."

"Well it's good to know you have standards." Sam shot back, smiling as he slipped into the passenger seat. He waited for Gabriel to start the car before he spoke again. "Of course, that does imply there's going to be a second date."

Gabriel glanced over at Sam, a flash of nervousness in his eyes as he pulled up to the exit of the car park.

"Well, I suppose that depends. Uh… where are we going?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, glancing out of the window. "I'd like to do this again, but the last serious relationship I had ended really badly, and I know it was a year or so ago, but I don't want to rush in and make any promises, you know? I mean, you're a great guy, but it's been so long since I did this and I've got so much stuff that's going to happen in the next year; I'd hate to mess it all up and I'm really worried I might."

He looked at Gabriel. Gabriel looked back, stunned.

"I… I just meant do I turn left or right? Which street do you live on?"

"Oh." Sam flushed bright red, and wished vaguely that the car would explode then and there. Gabriel, to his credit, was trying hard not to laugh in Sam's face. He wasn't being particularly successful, but he was trying.

"You're precious, Sam. Absolutely precious." Gabriel looked up from where he'd slumped face forward against the steering wheel, tearing up. Sam scowled and contemplated getting out of the car and walking home.

Gabriel must have seen his embarrassment, because he sat up, attempting to compose himself. He rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, rubbing his thumb against the younger man's collarbone in a way that was surprisingly intimate. Gabriel had a much kindlier, warmer smile than he'd had all evening.

"Sam. Believe me; I've had my fill of bad relationships. Innuendo very much intended. But I like you, a lot. And I'm happy to take this one day at a time, if that's what you want. No sweat."

Sam reluctantly allowed himself a smile, caught off guard by the oddly soft amber of Gabriel's eyes. He'd been watching the other man's eyed all evening, and had noticed that the amber only seemed present when he was being particularly truthful or honest. As soon as he started making up stories or trying to mask his emotions, they seemed more of a greyish-blue-brown-no colour. Right now, they shone like caramel.

Sam found himself swallowing back spit, gulping as he realised that Gabriel's had was still on his shoulder. Reaching up, he gripped it in his own, before realising that they were both leaning into each other. He wasn't sure who had started it, but their lips were soon pressing together, still laced with bitter-sweetness from the chocolate soufflé.

It wasn't chaste, but it was restrained. An occasional slip of tongue, just pressing against the other's lips, before politely backing off. It was a kiss that left both men wanting more, but they had both promised not to mess this one up. They broke apart, flushed and slightly reeling, before Gabriel cleared his throat and Sam started directing him to his flat. There was another kiss, although this one had an edge more of longing, before Sam left the car. It was wanting. It was excited. But, it was reminding both parties, we should wait a little longer.

By the time Gabriel got home, he was desperate to relieve some of the stress himself, but he couldn't bring himself to return to his own fist now he knew there were gorgeous beings like Sam out there. Who, for some unknown reason, wanted him.

Sam, in contrast, had no time to debate these things to himself, as he was instantly given a "what time do you call this" grilling from Dean. Not that Sam cared. He just mentioned to Dean that Gabriel's brother was a counsellor and maybe it would do him good to visit, then went to sleep thinking of amber eyes and chocolate soufflés.


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel smiled out over his expectant audience.

"A lot of people think my job is easy, but, actually, writing material can be a very intense… painful experience. Just last week, I was half way through a one liner when I fell over and broke my leg... It, uh… that makes more sense if I explain that I've always been inspired by literature, and my favourite book is "I Capture the Castle". Which, of course, an educated group such as yourselves all know, starts with the line "I write this sitting in the kitchen sink"… Long story short, I'm five foot eight, the sink is four foot high, and now I have a two hundred dollar doctor's bill."

He looked at the audience again, gauging their reaction.

Stony silence. The first audience member (Murdock) grumbled an unimpressed "wuff", turned to the other audience member (Murdock's teddy bear) and promptly began to gnaw on it.

Gabriel sighed, screwed up the piece of paper he was reading from, and threw it in the bin.

"Sucks." He dropped himself down on the couch and strongly resisted the urge to turn on the TV. He had to try and write something, anything, that was actually good. Part of him felt it was his own silly fault, daring to try and write something when his brain was still mostly taken up with drooling over Sam. It had been two days since the date, and the Law student-barman just wouldn't leave his mind. Gabriel had often been called tenacious, and it was true that when he set his mind to something, he usually got his way; it just seemed that this time he wasn't in control over what his mind was setting itself on.

Murdock continued to happily destroy his beloved teddy bear, occasionally rolling over to nudge his master and suggest they play together, before rolling off again and continuing to flail madly as he fought his largely inert foe.

It was amusing to watch, if nothing else.

His phone rang, causing Gabriel to topple over and recline sideways as he answered it.

"Justice Dentistry, we remove the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth. Who's calling?"

"Gabriel?"

"Hey, Sam."

"You can't just say hello?"

"It's so cliché, I don't like repeating material."

"Right… anyway, uh, how are you?"

"I'm awesome." Gabriel smiled, struggling against adding the needy `all the better now you've phoned`. He stretched one hand behind his head, reclining more comfortably. "And how are you?"

"I'm good. I've started on plan "bitch-at-Dean-until-he-goes-to-see-your-brother". I give it a week or so until he caves."

"Great." Gabriel laughed, closing his eyes. "But in future, I come up with all the operation codenames."

"Deal. So, um… I was wondering, I mean, I know it's kind of soon after our last um… since we last saw each other, but some guy came into the bar and gave me two tickets to some art exhibition, he said he wasn't going to use them. I think he'd just split up with whoever he was planning on taking."

"Yikes." Gabriel laughed, sitting up on his elbows. "People actually do that? Man, I am in the wrong career; if someone had told me bar-men got free stuff…"

Sam laughed, and Gabriel made a mental note to make Sam laugh more often, because damn if it didn't make him feel good.

"So… yeah, it's tomorrow night. I totally get if you're not interested, I mean, if you don't want, it's no big deal."

"Are you trying to ask if I'd like to go with you to the art exhibition?" Gabriel teased, adoring the uncomfortable edge in Sam's voice, and imagining the blush creeping across his cheeks. "Because, you know, I'm always up for widening my mind." Gabriel bit back the innuendo before he could say it.

Sam paused.

"What, no sick joke about widening other parts of you as well?"

"You… you know me so well."

"Hmm. So are you in for this exhibition thing or not?"

"Oh, I'm in. I'm all the way in."

Sam sighed his "I'm trying to make it look like I don't find that incredibly funny when really I kind of do" sigh. Gabriel grinned.

"Have I just given you license to make as many innuendoes as your no doubt filthy mind can come up with?"

"No, you've just given me license to say them out loud. You want me to pick you up?"

"Sure. Be outside mine at about seven?"

"Seven, tomorrow night. I'll be there."

"Awesome. See you."

"Bye."

Gabriel hung up the phone, sat up properly, and grinned like a Cheshire cat. He scooped Murdock up into his arms and grabbed his keys.

"Come on. We have to go and see Aunty Pamela… and gloat…"

(-*-)

Sam threw back the last of his coffee, and dumped the mug in the sink. Dean was sat by the window, staring out into the street.

"I know what I'm doing." Sam punched his brother on the knee, trying to reassure him. "I swear. I'm not rushing into things, I'm playing it one day at a time, and he's promised he's not going to push me into anything."

Dean scowled.

"You really like him?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." Dean grunted. "Well, whatever. What time are you thinking on getting back?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, checking himself once more in the mirror. "Nine, ten, maybe?"

"Hmm." He grunted again. He went back to staring out of the window. "Oh, wow."

"What?"

"There's a total rust-bucket parking up outside. What is that, a Mustang?"

"Your car fetish is weird, Dean."

"Oh no, it's a Thunderbird! Dude, it's been years since…"

"Shit!" Sam was at the window in a flash. "That's him. I gotta go."

"Seriously?" Dean shook his head, watching Sam dart for the door. "I thought the point of getting a sugar daddy was that he had money. And nice things."

Sam flipped him off as he left the apartment. Dean just smirked, moved to the couch, and flipped on the TV.

(-*-)

"It speaks to me." Gabriel murmured, looking up at the sculpture. "It really does."

"Oh yeah?" Sam was trying very hard to keep a straight face, but Gabriel's wicked grin made it very hard.

"Yeah. It says `Hi, I'm a breezeblock with a whole ton of glass sticking out of me. My creator is hiding nose down in a bag of coke, so could you just kill me please? `"

Sam managed to turn his laugh into a cough, attracting only a few snooty glances. Gabriel smirked at him.

"You know if you don't like it, we can always go somewhere else."

"What, and leave the other half of the room unmocked?" Gabriel looked affronted. "A lot of artists put a lot of time and work into making these pieces. The least we can do is treat each of them to equal disdain."

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, and Sam was struggling against giggles again.

They made their way around the gallery, mumbling various smart comments about the quality of the artwork, but the more hilarious moments were when the other patrons were within earshot.

"You know…" Gabriel intoned, smirking at Sam and making sure he was just loud enough for a wealthy-looking bald man to overhear. He had been watching the bald man for a while, and had decided to prevent the guy from buying a monstrosity of a sculpture. "I believe the artist relies heavily on sexual imagery."

"Oh really?" Sam played along, but his eyes begged him to drop it. Gabriel ignored him.

"Yes, the majority of his work falls back on phallic imagery, although he's never really said why. Some say it's to do with his intense study of Vedic Hinduism, and their use of phallic symbols in religious worship, thus rendering his art a declaration of faith, allowing people to have some embodiment of faith to focus on."

"Really?" Sam narrowed his eyes, looking for Gabriel's angle. Gabriel's eyes were darting to the bald man, who was clearly trying to look like he wasn't listening.

"Yes. Of course, other people say it's because he's a closet queer with a two inch dick. Ooh look, canapés."

The bald man had a coughing fit, and Gabriel led Sam away by the arm as he was spending more effort trying not to fall to the floor in hysterics.

(-*-)

"No… no, no no, don't do this…" Gabriel whined, slamming his hands against the dashboard as the thunderbird spluttered to a halt. Sam smirked from the passenger seat. Gabriel was mostly ignoring him.

"No! No, bad car, bad car! Don't die on me, you… ugh."

The car died. Gabriel scowled. Sam smirked.

"Do you have breakdown coverage?"

"Yeah… do you think this is karmic retribution for casting aspersions on the sexual adequacy of those artists?"

"I think this car would have broken down with or without cosmic intervention."

"Yeah, but you have no idea what this is doing for my manhood."

Sam reached over and ruffled his hair.

"You weren't that manly to begin with."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

"Ouch... You better be planning on making that up to me."

Sam just smiled, dropping his hand to the back of Gabriel's neck, and leaned in for a kiss. Gabriel was in no hurry to stop him, although it did make him a little happier as he phoned for the recovery car.

It took ten minutes for the recover guy to turn up, and another five minutes for him to explain the severity of the situation to the car's owner. Gabriel sighed, giving a small wave as his car got towed away to a garage. Apparently roadside repair wasn't an option if parts of the engine came off in your hands.

"Come on." Sam rested a hand on his shoulder. They'd turned down the offer of a ride, since it wasn't far to Sam's anyway.

Gabriel glanced up at the already dark sky.

"We should be ok. Weather seems fine."

(-*-)

Sometimes, the word "rain" isn't strong enough to describe the climate.

The few people who were stupid enough to be out in the torrential downpour didn't so much walk as scurry from one doorway to the next, under the ominous growl of thunder. Sam and Gabriel had long since ceased to care that they were getting rained on, since their shirts were already water-logged and slicked to their chests, their hair dripping and their shoes squelchy. They laughed as they ran to get out of the cold.

"Ugh." Gabriel shook droplets of water off his hands, reluctant to go much past Sam's doormat in his saturated state. Sam returned from the bathroom, throwing Gabriel a towel.

"Coffee?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"The radiators should be on; leave your shoes and jacket there."

Gabriel slipped out of his shoes and, on discovering they were just as sodden, his socks and jacket. He scrubbed the towel through his hair and followed Sam through to the kitchen.

"Nice." He gave the kitchen a sweeping gaze. "Student chic. It's been a while."

"Hey, when I get paid for being a hotshot lawyer, then we'll have nice stuff." Sam had stopped making coffee to read a note on the kitchen table. "That neatly avoids some rather awkward conversation."

"Hmm?"

"Dean." Sam looked up from the note, smiling a little nervously. "He, uh, went out. So no awkward, way-too-early meet the family stuff."

"Ah." Gabriel nodded. "Good. Not that, you know, I wouldn't want to meet your family but…"

"Yeah, too soon."

"Like, maybe in a month."

They both nodded, and found themselves laughing at their own awkwardness. Sam nodded to Gabriel's soaked shirt.

"Do you want to borrow some dry clothes or..?"

"From you?" Gabriel smirked, looking Sam up and down. "I don't think that would work."

"Yeah, fair point. But you can't stay in them; you'll catch cold. I've probably got some sweatpants and a dressing gown you could wear while your clothes dry out."

"Oh…" Gabriel looked away, awkward. "I don't know if I should… you know, impose or anything."

"Gabriel, it's a god damned flood out there, you're not going to walk home when it's raining like this."

As if to emphasise his point, the kitchen was suddenly illuminated by lightning, and a loud groan of thunder. The storm was right overhead.

Gabriel went to protest, but shivered as a drop of water went from his scalp down his spine, thus invalidating any argument.

"Finish the coffee, I'll get you some dry clothes."

"Sam." Gabriel rolled his eyes, intending to argue. Sam levelled him with a no-nonsense glare. Gabriel sighed. "Do you take sugar?"

(-*-)

Gabriel was quite proud of himself, honestly. Here he was, locked in the apartment… yes, locked. The superintendent had phoned to tell them that the thunderstorm had tripped the circuits and thrown out the door mechanism, so nobody got in or out. Gabriel had pointed out to Sam that if the superintendent had spent time fixing it instead of phoning everyone in the building, it wouldn't be an issue.

But anyway. Here he was, locked in the apartment of a young man he found astonishingly attractive, with plenty of excuses for cuddling up and making out, including soft candle-light and quiet conversation (god bless power outages), and he wasn't pushing anything. Of course, they were fast running out of light-hearted anecdotes, and getting dangerously close to serious conversation. At this point, Gabriel's exit strategies consisted of board games or making moves to distract him.

"If you don't mind…" Sam stood from the couch, leaving Gabriel to refill the wine glasses (not a move, Gabriel had reminded himself, merely a result of the fact that you can't boil a kettle for coffee if you've got no power) as he wandered to the bathroom.

Gabriel decided to be sneaky.

He stood, scanning the shelves of books that had been placed, stacked and crammed on to the bookshelf that looked like it had been dragged out of a skip. Most were dictionaries, encyclopaedias, legal books… there were a few books on car care and maintenance, and quite a few with titles like "things you never knew" or "how to do that thing it would be impossible to do while reading this book". And there, left on top of the bookshelf and looking recently disturbed, was something that peaked Gabriel's interest.

"_Getting Back on the Horse: Stop waiting and start dating!" _

Oh wow.

Gabriel bit the insides of his lips. He really shouldn't look through it. It would be a complete violation of Sam's privacy; it would destroy what little relationship they had developed... It would ruin his chances.

Unless, you know, Sam didn't really mind.

"You dare open that cover and I'll throw you out into the streets."

Or, maybe he really did mind.

"Sorry." Gabriel put the book down, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Curiosity. I didn't look in it, I swear…. It is yours though, right?"

Sam stomped across the living room, burying the book under a pile of other books. He gave Gabriel an awkward smile.

"I don't exactly make a regular thing of giving out my number to guys in bars." Sam shrugged, looking very embarrassed. "One of the first things it says is to take a step outside of your comfort zone. So…"

He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly.

"So you chose me." Gabriel smiled, acting flattered. This didn't make Sam more comfortable.

"It's not like that, I just… Remember how I mentioned my hideous relationship history? Like I said, it's been a while."

"You're twenty five." Gabriel chuckled, grabbing Sam's hand and leading him over to the couch. "It can't have been that long."

"Four years." Sam protested, but his argument fell short at Gabriel's huffed laughter. "It was more the way I didn't know how to get back into dating than worrying about how long it's been."

Gabriel didn't hurry to let go of Sam's hand. He ran his thumb across the younger man's knuckles, very aware their legs were pressed together.

"Don't sweat it, kiddo. I bet I can trump any bad relationship story you have." He picked up both glasses of wine, giving one to Sam, his smile firmly in place. "Short of being an axe murderer, I doubt you'll be able to scare me off."

"Oh yeah? How about this… My last relationship was with a druggie in Stanford. Every time we made out, she stole my stuff so she could sell it."

"Hm." Gabriel sniffed. "Been there. Although, when I broke it off with her, she purposefully got an STI in the hopes she'd pass it on to me."

"No way."

"The truth, I swear." Gabriel knocked back the rest of his wine. "Needless to say, she didn't succeed, either. Your turn, go on."

"Um… ok, I had a brief thing with a psych student who used to get off on telling me I was gay because my mother died when I was a baby."

"What?"

"Yeah. Literally, as we were doing it."

"That's… that's weird. I hope when you say "brief", you mean really brief."

"We only ever did it once. We fooled around a lot, but he'd always ask me if I wanted to take it further and I said "no", because of the creepy mom thing. Then, one night I was drunk… I've never regretted saying "yes" so much in my life."

Gabriel laughed, pouring more wine for both of them.

"Ok… Ooh…" He seemed to deliberate for a moment, not sure whether he should say it, but he figured he had to win the game, or at least try. "I was once with a guy who used to ask me to dress up as a woman."

"Like… realistically or just in drag?"

"Depended on how drunk he was. Although," he gave Sam a very dirty, slightly tipsy grin, "I have to say I did pull it off very well."

Sam laughed, taking another drink.

"My first boyfriend was a performance artist called Azazael."

Gabriel nearly choked on his wine. Sam gave him a half amused scowl.

"Oh, like Gabriel's a more normal name."

"Yeah, but… seriously? How do you even meet a guy like that?"

"It was midway through college. I had a problem with public speaking, and I could see it being a problem. He was recommended to me as a speech therapist, and…" Sam shrugged, taking a deep drink from his glass. Gabriel leant back, thinking.

"My first boyfriend introduced me to his kid. Then left me. With the kid." He set the wine glass down on the coffee table, and then settled back into the couch. Sam did likewise, shifting onto his side so he could see Gabriel.

"I was in a relationship when I met Azazael. I thought I loved her and… I guess I did, I kind of still do, just not… like that."

Gabriel saw the sadness in Sam's eyes, and shifted closer, brow furrowed in focus.

"Break up didn't go well?"

"I never got to break up with her." He gulped, pain and sorrow heavy in his eyes. "I'd gone away for the weekend, and decided I couldn't do it to her any more. I respected her too much to mess around on her. So I got back to her student house and… There'd been a fire. I didn't get a chance to…"

Sam's eyes closed as he pressed his face into the couch cushion. Gabriel rested a hand on his arm.

"Hey… is… I mean…"

"I'm over it." Sam was obviously lying. "Sort of. I just… Saying goodbye would have been nice, you know? Having a proper chance at closure."

"Yeah. I get it." Gabriel rested his hand on Sam's face, before pulling him into a hug. "At least you've got Dean here looking after you. Only relative I've got is Castiel and he's damn useless. Well, him and Balthazar, but Balthazar lives in England and only phones once a year to announce that he's still alive and yet to be incarcerated."

"What about your parents?" Sam leaned back, happy of a subject change.

"Eh. They haven't spoken to me since I came out."

"Really? Oh, I'm sorry."

"We were never close." Gabriel shrugged. "I wouldn't say it doesn't matter, but I'm used to it."

"Wow. I just couldn't survive without Bobby and Ellen."

"Who?"

"They adopted me and Dean when we were little kids. I've known them as my parents since I was six, they're more like parents than my real parents ever were."

"Sweet." Gabriel smiled.

"They are." Sam leaned in again, picking up his glass of wine as he did so.

"No, I was talking about you."

Sam snorted, finished his wine, and put the glass back on the table.

"That was sickening."

"I know, I felt wrong just saying it. I think my cholesterol just raised a few more points." Gabriel pulled a face, before smiling as Sam started laughing. Had he mentioned how much he loved Sam's laugh? Without thinking, he pressed his hand against Sam's cheek, catching the laugh between them as their lips sealed.

Every time they'd kissed, there had been less and less restraint, and now Gabriel was finding it hard to control himself. Not that Sam seemed to be doing much better, his tongue leaping and caressing Gabriel's, his arms wrapping around him so that his hands splayed across Gabriel's back, pulling him closer. He was practically in Sam's lap at this point which, while he didn't mind the idea at all, would be difficult to recover from. He was already very aware that Sam's sweatpants would do little to conceal the growing strain he was feeling between his legs, and being pulled closer to Sam would not help the situation. But it wasn't like he could pull himself away from the kiss, because my god what a kiss. Chests pressing together, hands running over backs, arms and cheeks, running through hair, all the while adding to the lick and nip of teeth, lips and tongue…

It was at that moments that the lights chose to zap back to life, momentarily blinding both of them.

"Um…" Gabriel broke away, biting his lips as he restrained himself. "Sam… you said you want to take this slow and I respect that, I really do. Which is why I'm pointing out that if we don't stop now, there is a very real chance that I'll do something stupid."

Sam nodded, a blush colouring his cheeks.

"Yeah, I... that's probably for the best."

They both sat for a moment, trying to regain their composure. Gabriel glanced out of the window.

"Rain's stopped."

"Yeah… if you're walking back, you'll probably want to…"

"Yeah, I'll go see if my clothes are dry."

Gabriel changed into his mostly dry clothes, stopping only to briefly berate himself in the bathroom mirror before emerging cool and calm. Sam seemed to have calmed down too, as he waited by the front door.

"So… do this again some time?"

"Definitely." He smiled, giving Gabriel one brief, chaste kiss before standing aside.

When he got out of the building, it was still drizzling slightly, and he kind of wished he was Gene Kelley. After all, wandering down the street kicking half-heartedly at puddles just didn't have the same effect as a full song and dance number.


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel opened the door to find Pamela looking severely annoyed. He was kind of glad she couldn't see the powdered sugar smudged across his face, or the inordinately happy grin he was wearing, because he doubted it would have improved her mood.

"Can you please shut that noise up?" She huffed, pushing past him and not-at-all accidentally hitting him in the ankle with her stick. "I can hear it from my apartment."

"And hello to you too, my dear Pamela."

"Bite me."

Gabriel closed the door and turned off his music, although he sincerely doubted it was as loud as Pamela claimed.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Here, come into the kitchen, I'm baking."

She let him lead her into the kitchen, but continued to be surly and aggressive, even as he guided her into one of the chairs.

"You know what side of the bed I woke up on? The empty side." She leant down, holding her hand nearer to the floor, so that Murdock would know to come to her. She scratched him behind the ear and leant back, letting him jump into her lap. "I've been striking out with every guy I talk to, and then I wake up this morning to find you baking and dancing to show-tunes. God damn your massive fairy ass, Gabriel."

"Hey!" Gabriel snapped, violently grabbing the mixing bowl and resuming his baking. "I have a wonderfully proportioned ass, thank you very much. And if you don't start being nice, you won't get any cookies when they're done."

"I don't want your stinking loved-up cookies." Pamela huffed, scratching Murdock's ears. "I want a man."

Gabriel made some sympathetic noises.

"Don't bother, I know you're smiling."

Gabriel stopped making the cooing noises and started tutting, before covering the cookie dough in Ceram wrap and putting it in the fridge.

"Do you want to know how my date went?"

"Well why else would I be here?" She snapped, hugging Murdock. Gabriel just smiled, and recounted the tale of last night's rain-soaked date. By the end of it, Pamela was simultaneously cooing in adoration and hideously grumpy.

"You think there'll be another date?"

"Oh, I hope so."

(-*-)

Six days later, Gabriel was face down on that very same kitchen table, attempts at writing abandoned in front of him, phone pressed to his ear.

"Why hasn't he called?"

Pamela, who frankly had enough problems of her own, just tutted at him down the phone line.

"Maybe he's trying to call you now, while you're talking to me."

"You're evil."

"No, I'm on a lunch date. Now go back to writing something, maybe we'll get back on tour some time before you're forty."

"Evil!"

Pamela blew a kiss down the phone and hung up. Gabriel went back to being lifelessly slumped over the kitchen table. It was getting ridiculous. A week ago, he'd not been able to write anything because he was too preoccupied with excitement for his date with Sam. Now, he couldn't write because he was too depressed.

Sam hadn't called. He had sent a text, two days ago, saying "Dean's made an appointment with Castiel! Mystery will be revealed!" with a smiley face. Gabriel had responded with a "can't wait, how are you?" No reply.

He tapped his pen irritably against the table for a few moments, before grabbing the notepad.

"_I hate dating. I mean, I really, really do. But it's one of those necessary evils, like taxes. You want the government to pay for stuff? You have to pay the government. You want someone to have dinner once a week and bang you into the mattress? You have to publically and privately demean yourself for months, playing the worst ever version of monopoly. Instead of hotels it has daddy issues, and community chest is never as nice as it looks… 'Your date gave you VD. Do not pass go, do not collect $200'…"_

Not a bad start. He kept going.

"_Most people my age got the majority of their dating advice from TV shows like Friends. Why? Six characters who are all some special kind of neurotic and about as attractive as day-glo legwarmers. From the ex-fatty with OCD to the racially stereotyped Italian American guy who's about as deep as a contact lens case… Why would you want your love-life to mirror that? _

"_If I got to choose, my love life would be like a Japanese game-show. It would be fast-paced, dramatic, and it leaves you going 'what the… Ok, I don't know what just happened but I __really__ hope it happens again.' I can hope. But, as it is, it's more like one of those procedural cop shows, you know? My intellectual and observational sides, wearing sunglasses, are stood over the corpse of my sex life, saying things like 'It looks like he's… shagged out.' Or 'maybe he was depressed; he looks pretty… blue'. _

"_Yes, ma'am, that was a blue balls joke. If you find it offensive, come talk to me after the show, I'm sure I could get you to see my point._

"_I shouldn't be flirting, though, really. I'm kind of in a thing, right now. Well, I think I am. Whether or not he agrees is a separate issue. I mean we meet up, we date, but so far it's all been so PG 13. Add to that he's a younger guy, in law school… Oh yeah, I know how to pick 'em, right? "Hmm, I could go for a respectable, emotionally stable member of society my own age, which would give any potential relationship a more comfortable start point… or… hey, there's a kid that's thirteen years younger than me going through one of the most stressful schools of education ever. Yum."_

"_We've been on a few dates now… I realised, quite early on… I mean, I've not been able to say it to him yet because, well, I don't really know how he'd react, it's… it's possibly too soon to say it, but…I…_

"_I find it hilarious that he's a law student who works as a bar tender. Every time he talks about passing the bar, I want to say "don't they have a little flappy door so you can do that?"_

"_Actually, if I'm serious, the thing that surprises me most, going through all the dating back and forth, the whole "I want to talk to you, and I want you to know I want to talk to you, but I don't want to obviously want to talk to you so I'm going to be a dick instead"… that whole thing, what surprises me the most is that he's into me."_

Woah. Gabriel closed the notepad and set his pen down on the table. That last chunk had gotten away from him a little bit… He put pen and paper aside, deciding he would deal with it later. His third most important rule of stand up was to always differentiate between things he would tell an audience and things he should tell a counsellor. He needed coffee and TV, and in that order.

He was half way through an episode of some brainless, catch-phrase ridden sitcom when his intercom buzzed. He wandered over to the button, not at all missing whatever he was watching.

"Ass-tral Projections, we offer Aura-cleaning and high colonics, so our hands are in your health. Can I help you?"

There was a brief pause.

"Must you do that every time?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Of all his family, he had to get exiled with Sigmund Von Never-Smiles.

"Come on up, little brother, I'll make you some coffee."

Castiel wandered into the apartment a few minutes later, just in time to have a mug of instant coffee pressed into his hands.

"And to what do I owe this honour?"

"I had a new client today." Castiel never called the people who attended his counselling sessions 'patients', as he said it was misleading. Gabriel had long since given up pointing out that a bisexual guy in a flasher coat bandying about the word 'client' was probably more so.

"Oh?"  
>"Yes. He said that he had been referred to me by his brother, who was in turn referred to me by you."<p>

"Oh… oh!" Gabriel caught up to the conversation. Dean. "And?"

"He is a very troubled man. Thank you for recommending me."

"So… you met him for the first time, today? Dean?"

"Yes. I've just come from our first session. He has made another appointment, which I believe bodes well."

"Good… good. He wasn't… um… didn't seem familiar to you? At all?"

"Should he?"

"Huh? Oh, no… hey, let's watch some TV."

"Gabriel, what…"

"Ooh look, the history channel! Knock yourself out; I'm going to make us some sandwiches."

Dammit. Ah well, Gabriel supposed it was too much to ask that their lives would be so sitcom-tastic that Dean was Castiel's unknown douchebag. Still, he had done a good thing; he had gotten a man in need of help to the person who could help him. And he had some decent material to work on. His phone sang from his pocket.

"Farnsworth's Directory of Commonly Mis-dialled Phone Numbers, who may I say is calling?"

"Dean and Castiel aren't each other's mystery men." Sam sounded almost genuinely put out.

"Yeah, I heard." Gabriel tried to contain the twin jolts of pathetic neediness and simpering joy that shot through him, causing his heart to try squeezing itself through his ribcage. "Shame."

"It would have been so awesome. But, you know, I got Dean to see a counsellor, so miracles can happen."

"Speaking of miracles, did you hear the one about the guy who was struck dumb for nearly a week, and then discovered he could use a phone?" Gabriel winced. That sounded way more accusatory than he'd meant it to, but he didn't feel like he was overstepping the mark. You don't leave someone to expect there's going to be a third date and then barely speak to them for a week. He was in the right.

"Yeah." Sam at least had the grace to sound awkward. "Sorry I haven't called or anything, life's suddenly gotten very crazy. Bobby took sick, so I've been helping Dean out at the auto-yard whenever I'm not studying or at the bar. By the time I got home, I had just about enough energy to eat and shower before I'd go to bed."

"Wow." Gabriel said, not at all lingering on the images of Sam working in an oil-stained wife-beater, Sam as the studious librarian or Sam, tense and naked in the shower. Gabriel thought maybe he should go to counselling too. "Busy."

"Yeah. I'd love to meet up sometime soon though, now Bobby's better."

"Awesome. Well, from the sound of it, you need some time to chill out. Since I kind of invaded your place last time… dinner and a movie at mine? I mean, I can't offer you the full cinematic experience, but there's shit all on at the cinema anyway."

Sam paused for a moment, and Gabriel cursed himself. Too soon. Way too soon. Still, he'd started, so he may as well…

"I mean, we can do something else, if you'd prefer, but I do have a pretty extensive DVD collection."

Sam snorted.

"What, no snow globes?"  
>Gabriel practically fainted. He knew there was a reason he liked this kid.<p>

"I can do Thursday? Say eight o'clock?"

"Thursday at eight sounds divine. Any requests for dinner?"

"I'm not a fussy eater. Just go with whatever you want."

"Oh, Sam… Are you sure about that? Because you know I'll take you up on it."

"How dangerous can you be? Just give me the directions to your place; I'm sure I'll be fine."

Gabriel obliged, relishing in hearing Sam repeat each word back to him. It was then that he saw Castiel poke his head around the doorway, and sighed.

"I should probably go, there's someone staring at me with wide "why haven't you fed me yet" eyes."

"Your dog?"

"No, my brother."

Sam laughed.

"Alright. See you Thursday."

"See you."

"Bye…"

Gabriel hung up the phone, and did his best not to grin like a mindless idiot.

"So… Castiel. What do you want for lunch?"

"Was that Sam?"

"I was thinking something simple, you know, I can't be bothered with anything fancy. I have pizza in the freezer, we can eat that…"

"I'm glad to see you are still pursuing a relationship with him. I didn't know I was interrupting." Castiel's mouth twitched in a masterfully repressed smile. "I will go back to the couch and allow you to perform your happy dance."

Castiel left quickly, the pizza box just missing his head as it flew across the room.


	8. Chapter 8

"You are _gone_." Pamela shook her head, glass of lemonade in one hand and cookie in the other. "You are so far gone we may as well switch off the iron lung and call up the funeral home."

"Mm…" Gabriel mumbled, not looking up from the magazine in his hands. He flipped a page, and scanned the tiny, bright blue print.

"Dinner at your house? That's your idea of taking it slow? You're a sadist, you know that?" She sipped from her lemonade. "Or a self-saboteur or something."

"Something like that." Gabriel agreed, folding over a corner of the page and turning to the next article.

"Aren't you worried? Aren't you terrified?" Pamela nudged him with her foot, taking a bite from her cookie. "This is when everything could get royally messed up."  
>"Yes." Gabriel sighed, snapping the magazine shut and grabbing another one, opening it to the contents page. "Thank you, Pamela."<p>

Pamela pulled a sour face at Gabriel's sharp tone, and continued to drink her lemonade quietly. She knew Gabriel better than his own family, or what was left of it anyway. She knew when to be careful and when he needed a shove. After a while, she cleared her throat.

"Will I get to meet him?"

"Not for a while yet." He didn't look up from the magazine, but pinched her knee. "And don't think you can 'accidentally' forget and 'just happen' to swing by. You will be ignored."

"You're so cruel sometimes."

"Then you won't want any more cookies?"

Pamela nudged him again, which he didn't respond to. Instead, he folded the corner of an article and turned the page.

Pamela held her hands out, and Gabriel took her lemonade and cookie from her. She waited for him to sit back, and then held her arms out to him. He hugged her, gratefully. For a while, they sat there in silence. Pamela ran her hand over his hair.

"I'm an idiot." He mumbled into her shoulder. "A complete idiot, I never should have… maybe I can still cancel?"

"You're going to be fine." She mumbled, holding him. "If he doesn't love you after this, he's either mad or void of taste."

Gabriel chuckled, and hugged her tighter.

"Thanks."

Pamela stroked his hair once more, pausing to run the ends through her fingers.

"You're getting a little long on top, aren't you?"

"Long on top, long in the tooth… life really piles it on. But, enough of that." Gabriel smiled, giving his friend one more squeeze before settling back and picking up the magazine once more. "Want to hear my menu so far?"

(-*-)

Sam had seen Gabriel in his role as an entertainer. He had seen Gabriel in his role as a romancer. He had seen Gabriel doing what Gabriel did best, which was namely using his words to get the reaction he wanted out of people.

But he had not seen Gabriel in his role as a formally trained chef, complete with a diploma from Cordon Bleu.

So, when Sam had given Gabriel free reign over the menu, he'd really had no clue what he was letting himself in for.

For three days, Gabriel practiced, experimented and sampled. He sent Sam texts demanding to know how hot he liked his foods, how sweet, how spicy. He sent texts asking if Sam was allergic to anything. Whenever Sam gave unsatisfactory answers, or asked him exactly what he was planning, Gabriel would reply with the words "Alliance Standard Protein bars", and nothing more. Sam was equal parts intrigued, amused, and incredibly wary.

When Thursday finally rolled around, Sam received no texts from Gabriel, which for some reason unsettled him more. He spent the day forcing himself to relax, so that by the time he started making his way over to Gabriel's, he was more curious than terrified. Gabriel's building, from the outside, has a vaguely Spanish look to it, square and whitewashed, and clearly built more for function than form. It was odd in how nondescript it was, which somehow made a lot of sense.

He pressed the intercom button for Gabriel's apartment. After a moment, he heard Gabriel's voice crackle through the speaker.

"Hello and welcome to Robo-ho, you push our buttons and we'll push yours. That one was just a taster."

Sam let out a laugh.

"It's me."

"Hey, Sam. Come on up; Anne's waiting for you."

"Anne?"

"Anne Droid, she's the best in the house."

"You know, I think I might just go for Pizza instead."

"No you won't. Come on up."

Sam shook his head, laughing, but went through the door when Gabriel buzzed it open. He had to admit, conversations with Gabriel were certainly interesting. He just wondered what the meal would be like. When he got to Gabriel's apartment, the door swung open to reveal Gabriel in a dress shirt and jeans. He couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face, and for a moment the two of them just stood grinning at each other.

"Uh… hi."

"Hey. Come in. Do you want some wine?"

"Uh, sure." Sam grinned, entering Gabriel's apartment as the other man stepped aside. "Wow… nice place."

"This old thing?" Gabriel grinned, leading Sam through to the living room. "Just something I threw together. Speaking of thrown together, the kitchen's kind of a mess, so we'll be eating out here."

"I'm fine with that." Sam smiled, shrugging off his coat and folding it over the back of the couch before sitting down. He felt hideously ungainly in such a stylish space. Gabriel's apartment was nice. Like, really nice. It made him kind of ashamed of his crappy student apartment; this place looked like something off the cover of a magazine. Gabriel walked through from the kitchen with two glasses of wine, stopping beside the couch to offer one to Sam.

"Now let's see if I read you right… Chicken Cobb salad with bacon, Lettuce Tomato and herb vinaigrette for starters. Sound appetising?"

"That… sounds amazing." Sam was mildly amazed that Gabriel had managed to pick something that sounded like his dream salad. Then, the other shoe dropped. "Wait, 'starters'?"

"Yup." Gabriel grinned, sipping his wine and giving Sam his usual roguish grin. "I used my wealth of information on you, which wasn't much, my observations and some blind guesswork to throw together three courses I think you'll enjoy."

"Three courses?" Sam's eyebrows shot into his hair. Gabriel laughed.

"I may have omitted certain facts about my… culinary prowess."

Sam blinked at Gabriel for a moment, before holding out his hand.

"Come here."

"What?"

"No, just…" He leant forward, catching Gabriel's hand, before leading him closer. As soon as he could reach, he brought his other hand up to reach Gabriel's shoulder and pull him down for a kiss. It was chaste and sweet, and was over before Gabriel could catch up to what had happened, but it made his head swim more than the wine had managed the last time they met.

"Ok… not that I'm complaining, but why?"

"I don't think I've ever had anyone put that much effort into a date. Thank you."

Gabriel shrugged, looking abashed for a moment.

"It's no big deal. I like cooking. If I hadn't gone into stand up, I would have been a chef. I was, actually, before I switched to full time funnies."

"No kidding?"

"Yeah. That's why they knew me at the restaurant, but I didn't want to bring it up."

"Huh." Sam smiled, watching Gabriel. "Well, it's a big deal to me. Thanks."

Gabriel leant in for another kiss, and felt his skin ripple with an almost electric buzz as Sam rested his hand on Gabriel's hip. When he pulled away, he was thrilled to note just as much reluctance to part in Sam as he had in himself.

"Why don't you choose a DVD for us to watch, and I'll go serve up the salad."

"Ok."

Sam smiled, trying to be a little subtle about watching Gabriel leave, if only because he knew the other man would tease him relentlessly about it. He chuckled to himself, and turned to consult the extensive self of DVDs. Gabriel was right; it was an impressive collection. He scanned the titles, trying to pick one that would be appropriately engaging without taking too much attention, or making either of them uncomfortable. It wasn't easy.

"This would help if you had some system of organisation." Sam called through to the kitchen, without turning away from the shelf. He heard Gabriel laugh.

"I have _every_ system of organisation."

Sam puzzled over what that meant, and had just decided he probably didn't want to know, when his eyes fell on a familiar box set.

"Oh god… Doctor Sexy? My brother loves that show."

"This is your brother the closet case, yes?"

"Yes, it's one of the reasons we're amazed he hasn't figured it out yet."

"Mm." Gabriel walked through from the kitchen, plate in each hand, and set them down on the coffee table. "I've not watched an episode of it for years."

"Yeah, no kidding, this box set is still in the cellophane."

Gabriel shrugged, but Sam noticed he wasn't making eye contact.

"It was a gift. Wine and bread yet to come." He retreated back into the kitchen, and Sam spotted a familiar title. A film that couldn't possibly distract too much, couldn't possibly bore, and couldn't possibly offend or embarrass. He grabbed the box off of the shelf and started fumbling with the TV remote, just getting to understand it when Gabriel returned with a bottle of wine and a bowl of freshly cut French bread.

"Made your decision?"

"Yep." Sam grinned, leaving the DVD to start up as he crossed back to the couch, sitting down beside Gabriel. "Ferris Bueller's Day off. I thought it would be undemanding enough."

"A brilliant choice." Gabriel said, handing Sam a fork. "One of my personal favourites."

They finished their salads, pausing just after Ferris convinced Cameron to let them take the Ferrari. Sam picked at a left-over piece of bread as Gabriel went to the kitchen to fetch the main course. It was then that Sam felt something nudging his ankle. He looked down to see a very curious pair of muddy brown eyes staring back at him.

"Well hey there, buddy." Sam was instantly in love. The Jack Russell was all too happy to throw himself onto his back at Sam's feet and get the belly-scratching of a lifetime. The dog barked happily, making playful attempts to nip at Sam's hand.

"Whosa good boy?" Sam cooed, pulling ridiculous faces as he tickled the small dog. "Are you a lovely boy? Yeshu are, yeshu are…"

"So you've met." Gabriel's voice made Sam jump out of his skin. Murdock looked up at Sam, demanding to know why the tickling had stopped. Then he realised his master had food, and was clearly the more attractive option. Gabriel set the plates down on the table, before scooping the dog up in his arms and sitting down next to Sam.

"Murdock, this is Sammy. Daddy's new… uh… friend. Sammy, this is Murdock, my fuzzy little home-wrecker."

Sam laughed, scratching the dog behind his ear.

"Murdoch? As in Rupert Murdoch, the Fox news guy? Why would you name your dog…"

"No, no… M-u-r-d-o-c-k. Like The A-Team. You know, 'Howling Mad'?"

"Oh." Sam nodded. "Yeah, the movie was ok, I guess. I never really watched the TV show, I w.."

"If you say 'too young', I will throw you out onto the streets and you won't get any dessert."

Sam grinned, and Gabriel's serious expression cracked in under a second. He returned his attention to the dog.

"Hey. I just introduced the two of you. Can't you act with manners?" He nudged the dog, holding him out towards Sam. Catching on, Murdock extended his paw. Sam shook it, laughing. "Clever boy. Now, Daddy's on a date, so go eat your dinner in the kitchen. Go on." He set the dog down on the floor, and Murdock trotted off obediently.

"That is one smart dog."  
>"He takes after his daddy." Gabriel grinned, before pausing for a moment. "That didn't make me sound weird, did it? Like, 'some crazy old guy who pushes his dog around in a pram' weird?"<p>

"No, it's sweet." Sam smiled. "He's obviously very dear to you."

"Had him since he was a month old. He was the cutest little puppy… loud, though. Real loud. Hence the name."

"How old is he?"

"Six and a half." Gabriel nodded, sipping from his wine. Sam smiled, before turning to his plate.

"Oh wow. Pulled pork and sweet potato mash?"

"With slow roasted vegetables. Someone who likes sweet things as much as you has to have a rounded diet to stay in shape, right?" Gabriel smirked over his wineglass, before picking up his own plate and hitting "play" on the remote.

"Mm… this is good. I mean, you're fighting an uphill battle."

"Oh?"

"It's Ellen's speciality." Sam smiled, sheepishly. "Kind of a… "mom makes it best" thing."

"Damn." Gabriel smiled, glancing at Sam as he enjoyed the meal. "I'll just have to keep trying."

As Ferris, Sloane and Cameron attempted to sneak away from the snooty restaurant, Sam set his empty plate down on the table next to Gabriel's, and shuffled closer to him on the couch. He pulled Gabriel into another kiss, the salty-sweet tang of the meal still fresh and heavy in their mouths. Their arms snaked around each other, hugging closer.

"Thank you." Sam whispered as he broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against Gabriel's. Gabriel didn't move away, but did shift so he could see Sam better.

"Are you ok? You seem a bit… I mean, not that I mind being showered with affection, but you're usually a little more reserved." He ran his hand in comforting circles over Sam's shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine." Sam shook his head, smiling. He pulled Gabriel back into a hug, so they were reclining against the back of the couch, Sam wrapping his arms around the older man's shoulders. "I've just been having a kind of hectic week. Working so much at the auto-yard didn't really do wonders for my studies. But… I'm fine. It'll be thanksgiving break soon, then I can just relax for a while. And this has helped. This is really what I needed."

Gabriel nodded, feeling shivers pass down his spine as he found himself far too comfortable with how he was thinking about Sam and Thanksgiving. He cleared his throat, and poked Sam's thigh.

"If you want any dessert, and believe me, you will, I'm going to have to go and sort it out. You might need to wait a while."

"Ok…" Sam was successfully intrigued and distracted, and Gabriel gave him another quick kiss before disappearing into the kitchen. Within ten minutes, he'd returned to the couch, his eyes shining.

"Give it a half hour. Let's keep watching the film."

They didn't keep watching the film. It started out as Sam's hand finding Gabriel's as they watched Ferris, Cameron and Sloane enjoy a New York art gallery. Then, it became Sam putting his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, which was quickly followed with a kiss. The kiss was slow and lingering, and quickly became deep, pressing. It was Sam who first pressed his tongue against Gabriel's lips, asking for a deeper kiss. It was Gabriel who leant back, bringing Sam down with him. Gabriel was very, very happy to miss some of his favourite moments of the film for this, feeling Sam run his hands over the soft cotton of his shirt, making the skin beneath it shiver. Gabriel ran his hands through Sam's hair, loving the slight noise Sam elicited when he did (not a moan, more a happy sigh), and almost didn't hear his own breath hitch as Sam moved his hand under the older man's shirt. Gabriel decided that wasn't a fair playing ground, so he pulled Sam in for another, more distracting kiss while his hands crept down to pull up Sam's tee shirt, delighting in running his hands over the smooth, contoured muscle. He was about to move so that Sam could rest between his legs…

The oven timer soon put a stop to that, beeping shrilly as the film pulled into the dramatic final race scene. Gabriel growled, but resigned himself to a slight delay in their make-out session. After all, he knew what was for dessert. He pulled his hands out from under Sam's tee, and patted his waist.

"Move it, big guy, we don't want them overdone."

Sam pulled a sort of half pout, but moved to let Gabriel up. Gabriel ran his hand through Sam's hair one last time before darting off to the kitchen. Sam took the opportunity to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He had heard the expression about time flying when you're having fun, but they must have just made out for a solid twenty minutes. He hadn't lost track of time like that since… well, not for a long time.

To say it had been "unexpected" would be a lie; Sam had been imagining a moment like that for almost two weeks now. And damn if it hadn't lived up to his expectations, but… he had been the one to ask to take it one day at a time, and now here he was, pushing forward. Here he was, thinking about how long it had been since he'd been with someone who could take up so much of his attention.

Murdock leapt up into Gabriel's abandoned seat, flopping down and resting his head on Sam's leg. Sam smiled, stroking and scratching the dog as if it would give him answers. And it did, sort of. He looked around at Gabriel's apartment, taking in the design, the DVDs, the books… the dog… He was confident that he knew enough about Gabriel to know he'd want to stick around and learn more. Getting into a relationship now, at possibly the most stressful point of his life, probably wasn't the best thing to do, but then since when was life easily measured out like that?

He heard Gabriel sigh as he approached the couch.

"I don't believe it. Cock blocked, first by my oven timer, and then by my own dog. Murdock, you hussy, get. Go sit in your basket, Sam's not here to see you."

Murdock gave Gabriel a withering look, before trotting away to amuse himself, because clearly bipeds were no fun. Gabriel smiled down at Sam for a moment, before holding out a dish to him.

There, in the centre, looking just like it had in 'Le Couer de Couers', was a perfect, individual, chocolate soufflé.

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows, practically beaming as Sam gasped.

"I, uh… I was glad you liked the recipe, they were something of a speciality of mine when I worked there."

Sam took the soufflé and a spoon from Gabriel, wondering vaguely if he hadn't just drifted off in class, because he'd been dreaming about this for a few weeks as well.

He glanced over at Gabriel, who was staring at the TV, treating the soufflé like it was nothing more special than store-bought ice cream, and right then and there, Sam knew he wanted this. Whatever it grew into, whatever name they eventually put on it, their relation-date-ship-thing was something he was willing to commit to.

Which was great, because Gabriel was pretty sure he'd had that figured out since their first kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

They'd finished their desserts, and the film had gone to credits. As soon as Sam was done with the chocolate soufflé, he had made moves to resume their earlier make-out session. Gabriel squirmed to push himself back up, against Sam's efforts to make them more horizontal.

"No, whoa… Sam, stop." Gabriel looked at him, his eyes intense, gleaming with that golden shine that made Sam melt a little bit. "Look, if you want to take it slow, we'll take it slow. If you want to get more physical, we will, but you're going to need to tell me, ok? I like you, a lot, and I don't want to screw this up and make it uncomfortable."

Sam backed up a little, kneeling on all fours over Gabriel, who was resting on his elbows. Gabriel cleared his throat, fighting off a slight flush to his cheeks.

"We're three dates in, Sam. I'm letting you set the pace here. Just… tell me what you want."

Sam nodded, leaning in. As he ran his lips along Gabriel's jaw, his hand slid up the other man's thigh and rested securely in the groove of his hip.

"I want you." He dragged his lips away from where they were mouthing over the soft skin beneath Gabriel's jaw, bringing them to rest just brushing the skin of his ear. "And while I don't know if you'll hit any home runs, I know I want to stay the night. If you'll have me."

"Well, you put it like that…" Gabriel grinned, his eyes flashing again. "What kind of a host would I be to turn you away?" So saying, he somehow managed to push himself up, locking lips with Sam before flipping them both one hundred and eighty degrees, Sam's head on the cushion at the opposite end of the couch. Sam would have asked Gabriel how he did it, but that would have meant prying his lips away from the kiss.

If there was one thing he could take away from their dates so far, it was that Gabriel was a fantastic kisser, mostly because he let Sam lead the pace, and moved to match it. Now, though, Gabriel was pushing. His teeth nipped at Sam's lower lip, his tongue sliding over it before demanding further entry. The tip of his tongue found every soft, sensitive spot, making Sam gasp. His hands fisted in Sam's hair, tugging just enough to demand recognition, but not so much that it hurt. Sam ran his hands over Gabriel's chest before gripping his hips, shuffling down on the couch so Gabriel could sit more comfortably. One hand slid around from Gabriel's hip, gripping the soft, taut muscle of his ass, which clenched at Sam's touch.

"Sneaky." Gabriel's voice was rough and heady as he broke away from Sam's lips. His hands slid down the younger man's chest, before sliding smoothly under the tee shirt and pushing it up over Sam's head, fingers purposefully sliding over his nipples as they went. Sam pulled the tee shirt off of his arms, and Gabriel took the opportunity to run his hands down the sensitive stretch of skin from the under-side Sam's arms to his nipples.

"Wow, you really are ripped, huh?"

Sam didn't answer, but grabbed Gabriel's shoulders and pulled him forward into another kiss, his fingers struggling with the buttons on Gabriel's shirt as their lips and tongues played over each other. When he finally got the shirt open, he ran his hands over Gabriel's shoulders and pushed it down his arms. Gabriel tense under his touch.

"What?"

Gabriel shook his head, but whatever momentary tension he'd hoped to clear hadn't gone. He adopted the sly smirk Sam had seen back at the bar when they'd first met, and sat back so he was kneeling over Sam's legs.

"Here I am." He traced his fingers over the lines of Sam's muscles. "Try not to get too jealous."

"Really?" Sam raised his eyebrows, sitting up on his elbows. "Insecurities? Now?"

Gabriel shrugged, seeing no point in denying it.

"I'm a stand-up comedian; being fundamentally insecure or unstable is kind of par for the course."

Sam smiled for a moment, noting the slight tells of nervousness in Gabriel. The gentle furrow of his brow, the slight pursing of his lips, the fact that he watched his hands tracing lines across Sam's muscle rather than looking in Sam's eyes. He smiled, before pushing himself so he was sitting up properly, with Gabriel in his lap.

Maybe he wasn't the only one who was worried about things moving too fast.

"I think you look great." Sam said, pressing kisses across Gabriel's neck, lightly scraping his teeth over Gabriel's collar bone. Gabriel leant into the contact, and wrapped his arms around Sam's back, but he was still holding back, still tense.

"Liar."

Sam found the most sensitive crease of Gabriel's collar and pressed his mouth there, making a hickey that caused Gabriel to gasp and shiver in his hands. When he pulled away, he pushed his hips (and the all too intense pressure that was building between them) up into the other man.

"I'm not this good a liar."

Gabriel blushed bright red, for an instant, and Sam had to restrain himself from not ripping his jeans off then and there. The blush was only for a moment, before Gabriel regained his composure and resumed his usual bravado.

"Well… what do you want me to do about it?"

"Bedroom? If you want."

In that moment, he saw more emotion cross Gabriel's face than he had in all the time they'd spent together. Trepidation, confusion, want, sorrow… but when he looked at Sam, it all filtered away to something he couldn't immediately find the word for. Gabriel climbed off the couch, and held his hand out to Sam, before quietly leading him to the bedroom. It was as they both climbed onto the bed and started back in on the slow exploration of each other's bodies, he realised that Gabriel was looking at him with gratitude.

All of his actions were underlined with gratitude; 'thank you for letting me do this', 'thank you for not shooting me down', 'thank you for being you'.

And then, as Gabriel pushed Sam back onto the bed, the tender appraisal was gone. Gabriel slipped back into the passionate, definite moves of earlier, tugging on hair, licking and nipping skin, stroking every sensitive bit of flesh he could find. Sam's breath hitched as Gabriel traced kisses down his chest, before making him shed his jeans. Sam leant forward, clutching the hard ridge in Gabriel's Levi's to suggest he do the same.

Free of their clothes, naked and buzzing, they rutted against each other, gripping at each other's skin, leaving rows of tiny crescents where nails dug into flesh.

They took each other over the edge, Gabriel babbling whispered words that Sam couldn't pick up on. Sam, left weak and joyously relaxed, pulled Gabriel to his side, dragging the covers over them. He pressed gentle kisses to Gabriel's face, and the older man wrapped his arms around Sam's neck.

"You know…" Gabriel croaked, his smile shining in the dim half-light. "I think we both needed tonight. I just… didn't know how true that was."

Sam pressed another kiss to Gabriel's cheek, before letting sleep claim him. Gabriel thought Sam had the right idea.

(-*-)

Gabriel woke up, and he really wished he hadn't.

At least with drunken one night stands, there's a hangover to focus on, and the brief, fleeting moment where it's possible you dreamed the whole thing.

But no, Gabriel woke up, and stared at Sam, who was still asleep on the other pillow.

"_Damn." _He thought._ "Looks like I'm in love."_

He rested his head back on the pillow, debating whether he should get up or try to go back to sleep. Watching someone sleeping had always struck him as a little creepy, so he should probably do something soon to stop staring at Sam.

Anything at all.

Any moment now.

Even just closing his eyes would be a step in the right direction.

"What time is it?" The words were forced out with great effort, and Sam screwed his face up as wakefulness hit him. Gabriel, really hoping Sam didn't notice him start with surprise, rolled over to consult his bedside clock.

"Seven."

"On a Friday?"

"Well, it was Thursday yesterday, so yeah."

Sam ran a hand over his face and finally blinked his eyes open.

"I have a class at ten."

"Shit." Gabriel sighed, sitting up. "How long will it take you to get there?"

"About fifteen minutes?" He shrugged. "No big deal." His hand traced as far up Gabriel's spine as he could reach without moving from his rather comfortable position.

"Have you got anything on today?"

"Same as ever. Try and write funny things."

"Yeah, you said about writer's block." Sam rested his hand on Gabriel's waist. Gabriel felt a slight spark chase through his gut at the contact. "How's that going?"

"I'm getting there." Gabriel smiled. Sam tugged slightly on his hip, and Gabriel allowed himself to be pulled back into a more cuddly position.

"You know what's weird?"

"That I'm up an hour and a half before I really need to be?"

"This doesn't feel weird." Gabriel nestled his head against Sam's chest. "Cuddling and you spending the night. It feels… oddly simple."

"Don't over-think it."

"Who's over-thinking?"

Sam's voice was still heavy with sleep, which leant it something of a final, authoritative tone.

"You're the kind of guy who analyses and stresses and god-knows-what else." He planted a kiss on Gabriel's forehead. "If you have to stress, at least wait until I'm out of the apartment."

"Fine." Gabriel gave a mock sigh, before breaking into a smile.

Murdock barked from the next room, pawing at the shut door. Gabriel sighed.

"Later. No breakfast yet, go back to sleep."

Murdock growled and barked again. Gabriel dropped his head back against the pillows, before growling and getting up. He grabbed a pair of tracksuit bottoms from a dresser by the bed and pulled them on, shooting a wink at Sam.  
>"For fifty bucks you get a private showing."<p>

"I think I got a better offer for free last night." Sam smiled, looking like he was already half way asleep again. Gabriel snorted as he went to see to the insistent dog.

"That's what you think."

Gabriel fed Murdock, who was perfectly content once he had his nose down in a bowl of breakfast, and went back into the bedroom to find Sam already sleeping once more. He debated whether or not to wake him, before deciding the kid had earned a little extra rest. He took a shower before deciding I was nearly eight o'clock and Sam should be entertaining him, rather than lying there asleep (no matter how nice he was to look at).

Gabriel brewed coffee and found some bacon, knocking together an 'I don't want to make a big gushy thing about it, but I really enjoyed last night and here's a reason for you to stick around' special.

Damn his insecurities.

Damn Sam for being able to pick up on them. Must be his creepy lawyer predatory training; Gabriel knew for a fact that they all spent hours a day playing 'spot the weakness'. Thank God Sam seemed to use his powers for good, not evil.

At eight, Gabriel took a mug of coffee and a bacon sandwich in to Sam, set them down on the bedside table, and leant in, kissing him at the corner of his mouth. A lazy smile spread across his lips as he blinked awake. He spotted the coffee and sandwich, and the smile morphed into a full on dazzling beam.

"Is that for me?"

"Mhm."

"You're seriously the most awesome guy ever." Sam pulled Gabriel in for a kiss, before sitting up. "You going to eat yours in here or out there?"

"It's still in the kitchen, if that's what you mean."

Sam kissed him again, smiling.

"I'll get up and join you then."

Gabriel backed off to let Sam get out of the bed, and suddenly found himself unsure of where he should look. Yes, after the previous night they had both spent the night lying naked together, but in all the passion and excitement, he hadn't really looked at Sam, as a whole. He'd looked at the individual zones and units of Sam, but now he had a very naked man in front of him, looking through the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed for his boxers.

Gabriel bit back a smile, and left Sam to get dressed.

Even if Sam never called him again, he was still able to say he hit that. And if that didn't make him feel ten years younger, nothing would.

They sat together on the couch as they ate breakfast, watching the morning news. They would look, to the casual observer, like old friends, laughing and joking, casually chatting, but the keen eye would pick up on the occasional lingering contact or shared smile and bashful eye contact, and say, "and you, sir, are you two an item?" If Gabriel had seen a couple half as sappy as this in the front row of one of his shows, he'd be relentless in his teasing and tormenting, but here he was, enjoying it and turning into a big softy. How's that for karmic retribution? At nine, there was a knock on the door.

"Oop." Gabriel disentangled himself from Sam, because they really shouldn't get all het up again, and stumbled to the door. When he opened it, he actually felt the bottom of his stomach fall out, and his lungs, intestines and genitalia get sucked into the resultant black hole. "Pamela… hi."

"I had some brilliant ideas for material, Gabriel, I just had to run them by you. And, you know, beg for details on your date."

"Mhm."

Pamela nudged his foot with her cane.

"Are you going to let me in?"

"Uh… no, it's… after cooking last night, the kitchen's a mess…"

"Then I'll sit in the living room, what's the…" Pamela went very still, before holding her hand out to Gabriel. He held it, waiting for the onslaught. "He's still here, isn't he?"

Gabriel said nothing, which was really as bad as admitting it.

"You sly son of a bitch, Gabriel!" Pamela gripped his arm, before finding her way up to his face. "I can't slap you, honey, could you slam your cheek into my hand?"

"You are not allowed to say anything, you hear?"

"Can I meet him?" Pamela was already pushing him out of the way, which wasn't fair because it wasn't like Gabriel could reciprocate physically; he didn't want his next spot in the papers to have the headline "man, 35, causes bodily harm to blind woman".

Pamela found her way to the couch, and Sam, to his credit, tried to look like he hadn't been listening in.

"Uh… hi."

"Fine. She's not going to go away until she's had her way with you." Gabriel sighed, motioning Sam to come closer. "Sam, this is Pamela, Pamela, this is Sam." He helped Pamela find Sam's hand, and they shook. Pamela rested her cane against the couch, and smiled awkwardly.

"Do you mind if I..?" She reached her hands out in the vague direction of where she thought Sam's face would be. Sam seemed a little apprehensive, but smiled.

"No, go ahead."

Pamela rested her hands gently on Sam's shoulders.

"Wow, you weren't kidding." She muttered to Gabriel, carefully moving her hands to Sam's neck. "He's a big one… are you sure he isn't wearing quarterback gear?"

"Nope, just a tee shirt." Gabriel stood back from them, smiling reassuringly at Sam.

"Oh really? Maybe I'm exploring the wrong…"

"And pants, you jezebel."

"Damn." Her hands found their way over Sam's face and through his hair, before she stepped back. "Well. He certainly is a looker." She reached her hand down, and Sam yelped as she curved a hand around his ass.

"Hey, hands off!" Gabriel nudged her arm, before grabbing Sam's hand and leaving him away.

"Sorry!" Pamela smirked. "I was going for his hand!"

"Yeah, right. Sex-crazed she-beast."

"Oh shush, Sam doesn't mind." Pamela smiled, finding her way around to sit on the couch. "Now go make me some coffee, and I'll entertain your new friend for a while." Sam raised his eyebrows at Gabriel. Gabriel just sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"She's a dandelion." He sighed, looking up. "Harmless, but once she's found her way through a crack in the paving, there's no way of getting rid of her. More coffee?"

Sam nodded, before sitting next to Pamela, and hoping he got out of this relatively unscathed.


	10. Chapter 10

As much as Pamela loved to torment Gabriel, she knew when to stop, and thankfully she didn't do anything to make Sam awkward. Most of their conversation stuck to the realm of what Gabriel had told her about him anyway. She left after her coffee, and shot Gabriel a grin that said she'd be back later for a far less appropriate chat. Sam stayed for another half hour, in which they agreed that they'd spend the day together on Sunday, since a bunch of people Sam knew from Harvard were setting up a charity fund-raising thing, and Sam had promised he'd show his face. He'd promised Gabriel that if it wasn't fun, they could go somewhere else and do what he wanted to do, which Gabriel instantly set about making him regret. They kissed each other goodbye, and Sam left for class.

Gabriel spent the rest of the day cleaning and tidying his apartment, and then invited Pamela up for a gossip session, taking time out every now and then to do what he would never admit to Castiel was his happy-dance.

Speaking of Castiel, the next morning he had a rather angry younger brother at his door.

"You are insufferable." He brushed past Gabriel, who blinked at him. He'd only just gotten up, and he had a feeling the delicious wake-up goodness of coffee would be forced to wait.

"Good morning, my much beloved brother. No, you're not intruding, come in, why don't you, please."

"I am not in the mood for your jokes, Gabriel." He didn't look it. "You are an insufferable fool."  
>"Yeah, I got that." Gabriel was still in his pyjamas, and his first mug of coffee was still steaming seductively in his hand. In fairness, it wasn't early; he'd just overslept, but still. He wasn't in the fittest state to deal with this sort of situation. "Can I get some context, please?"<p>

"Dean Winchester arrived at his counselling session this morning and informed me he has backslid into dating his emotionally manipulative boyfriend."

"Right…"

Castiel glared at his brother.

"It's your fault."  
>"What? How the hell…"<p>

"It was an argument with Sam which prompted Dean to revert to his old habits."

"And that's very sad, but I don't see…"

"It was about you."

Delivered with the tact and subtlety of a punch to the stomach, which was just typical of Castiel. Gabriel felt the world neatly pull itself from under his feet.

"They were arguing about me? Why?"

"Dean did not appreciate your leading Sam into physical acts, and…"

"Whoa, hold up. _My_ leading _Sam_? Sam was making all the moves; I just went along with it."

"And you are old enough to know better."

Gabriel glared at Castiel, sorely tempted to throw his coffee at him.

"Bypassing comments about my age, can you please get to the point where this is my fault?"

Castiel had the decency to look abashed, at least. He fixed Gabriel with his best "calmly concerned" look, the one that invited people to share their feelings. Gabriel really hated that look.

"Perhaps I was a tad abrupt. But I know you have a tendency to rush into things, Gabriel."

"Castiel." It was a warning. But if Castiel picked up on it, he didn't let it stop him.

"From what Dean has told me in our sessions, I believe there is a lot about Sam that you don't know, and I feel it would be best for all involved if you got to know more about his life, before you do anything… rash."

"Rash?" Gabriel repeated, his eyebrows raised. Castiel looked like an incredibly uncomfortable little brother, which as far as Gabriel was concerned, was exactly how he should look. "You think I'll do something rash."

"I didn't say that you _would_, just that you _might_, and…"

"Right. Because I'm completely inept."

"No, Gabriel…"

"You think I haven't learned from my mistakes."

"I just think it might be prudent…"

"Castiel, go away." Gabriel opened the door and stepped back, arms crossed. "I don't want to talk about this, and I think you've insulted me enough for one morning. Just go away. And learn to talk like a goddamned human being."

"Please, Gabriel, I didn't mean to offend you." Castiel shrugged, looking genuinely sorry for himself. "I just… I've had a bad morning."

Gabriel let his guard drop for a moment, feeling sympathy creeping in. Castiel really did look tired and upset.

"What's up?"

"Oh, my date cancelled on me and we were supposed to be going somewhere. Not much, but… you know…"

"Mm…" Gabriel nodded, halfway towards patting Castiel on the back when realisation hit him. "Wait, 'date'? What date?"

Castiel continued looking sheepish. Sympathy retreated back, as Gabriel the Pissed Off Big Brother made a stomping return.

"Oh, you didn't. Tell me you didn't go crawling back to that same guy again."

"I…"

"How long have you been seeing him for?"

"Just a week. But he's cancelled, so…"

"Get out." Gabriel pointed at the door. "I don't have the patience for you right now. Leave."

Castiel left, casting his elder brother guilty, awkward looks as he went. He knew better than to try arguing when Gabriel was in these moods.

(-*-)

The fundraising event was a parade of yard sales along sorority and fraternity row, with each house holding a yard sale and their own unique stall; some sold cakes, some ran games and activities, some sketched portraits and caricatures, all in the hopes of raising money for a homeless charity. It was a way to kill an afternoon, if nothing else, and Gabriel wouldn't object to wandering around with Sam on a glorious autumn day like this.

Or, he wouldn't normally. Today, he was still kind of pissed.

"So…" He said, as they examined a table filled with customised mirrors. "Apparently I'm an evil predator who strips law students of their virtue?"

"What?" Sam blinked at him for a moment. Gabriel shrugged, stuck his hands in his pockets and continued walking.

"Oh yeah. I break up families too; drive them to arguing."

The sun was shining through the leafy trees that lined either side of the street, and the image of happy people strolling along the parade would have been beautiful if Gabriel wasn't in such a foul mood.

"Is this about me and Dean?" Sam caught up with him, grabbing his arm. Not hard, just enough to demand attention. "How do you even…"

"Castiel decided that since your brother bitched to him, he would bitch at me. I believe the implication was that I would take it candidly, without causing a fuss, but apparently I'm an evil S.O.B, so why should I care?"

"Whoa, hey…" Sam tugged on Gabriel's arm, forcing them to a stop. He looked down at Gabriel, his face creased with concern. "I don't know what you heard, but it really wasn't a big deal. Really. Dean got all annoyed and protective, because he sometimes has trouble remembering that I'm not a kid. Maybe he used that as an excuse to go back and beg for his boyfriend one more time, but it wasn't as big a deal as he made it out to be." Sam rubbed his thumb over Gabriel's arm, smiling. "Me and Dean are fine. Really."

After a while, Gabriel nodded, and looked away.

"Are _we_ still fine?" Sam looked at him, really looked, and Gabriel felt very uncomfortable with the concept of someone giving this much of a shit about him. Uncomfortable, but not unhappy.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "We're good. Here, come on, let's go get some lunch." Gabriel smiled at him, his eyes shining with a guilty smile. Sam smiled back, reassuring him, and slipped his hand into the other man's grip. Oddly, Gabriel didn't mind it.

"Huh."

"What?"

"I don't usually do the whole… public relationship thing." Gabriel shrugged. "Displays of affection, discussing everything like this. I'm… actually, if I'm honest, the way I use the term "relationship" might be kind of different to how the common public use the term "relationship". It'd probably be closer to how most people use the term "train wreck"…"

Sam shrugged, his fingers rubbing between Gabriel's.

"I don't mind. It's… I've kind of been forced into publicity with a lot of my exes. I don't mind keeping it quiet if it makes you more comfortable. Although I don't mind this."

He squeezed Gabriel's hand again. Gabriel squeezed back.

"It's weird, I don't mind it either. You know, Castiel wasn't entirely wrong though." He let himself drift a little closer to Sam, their arms brushing together. "Maybe we don't know as much about each other as we should. I think… I think I'd like to know a little more about you."

"Me too." Sam smiled. Gabriel looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Well, if you need to know more about you, I'm screwed. I was hoping you could tell me the answers."

Sam rolled his eyes and bumped into Gabriel, not letting go of his hand. Gabriel just shrugged and bumped back.

"You're the one with the ambiguous grammar, don't blame me…"

They approached the buffet stall with smiles on their faces, and sat down together, picnicking on sunny grass.

"So what do you want to know?" Sam watched Gabriel pick at a chicken wing.

"Uh… Alright, am I qualified to know why you went into law yet?"

Sam bit his lip, sitting back slightly.

"It's a long story…"

"We have time."

"Not so much 'long', just… it covers a lot of ground."

"Well, you cover a fair bit of ground yourself, Sasquatch, and it hasn't sent me running yet."

"Ok…" He cleared his throat, setting his food aside. "My mother died when I was a baby, and my Dad took it pretty hard. It took about six years for social services to… uh… catch on that he was… unsuitable, as a parent. I remember sitting in the courthouse, waiting for him to finally get out of our lives. I remember being wowed by how much authority the lawyers had. How much control… I mean, I'd grown up with this guy treating me and Dean like soldiers, and these lawyers were coming in and telling him what he could and couldn't do. They were powerful, you know? Sweeping in to take us away from it, from him. I guess I wanted to be like that… I was the quiet one, the nerdy one, and now I saw these people who just flew in and used their intelligence to get rid of this big bully. I wanted to be like that."

Gabriel blinked, and rested his hand on Sam's.

"Uh… wow. You and your dad, then..?" Gabriel trailed off as Sam closed his eyes. "Hey, we can talk about something else, if you want. Ask me something. Anything, go on."

Sam flashed Gabriel a grateful smile, before pulling his food towards him.

"Uh… tell me about your family. Is it just you and Castiel?"

"We were five, originally." Gabriel sighed, kind of wishing Sam had gone for another topic. But then, he supposed, he would have asked about it sooner or later. "Michael, the eldest, myself, Raphael, Lucifer..."

"Lucifer?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"It's what we called him. And then there was Castiel. And then our parents divorced, and now there are also a large amount of half-siblings, step-siblings and cousins who converge in Aspen once a year."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Or, I presume they do. Castiel and Balthazar are the only ones who ever talk to me, so it's not like I get invited."

"How come?"

"When I came out to my parents I was…" Gabriel tried to choose the right phrase. "I was half forced out, half running away. Disowned, I suppose, either way. They refused to believe it was something I felt seriously about, they thought I was acting out because…"

He cleared his throat, looking away from Sam.

"I came out the summer after Raphael passed on. We were fourteen, he was… he got in a fight, got beat up really bad, and… lost a lot of blood." Gabriel swallowed, and Sam got a feeling he was swallowing back a lot of the story. He wouldn't press it, though. "It's always been… We were twins, see, so… I mean, we didn't look or act anything alike, but there was still that weird connection thing twins have. So when he died…"

Gabriel shot Sam an awkward look.

"Castiel delights in telling me that it's probably the reason I have a habit of, uh… issues. Concerning relationships. And commitment."

Sam gripped Gabriel's hand.

"We've both got histories."

Gabriel nodded, and felt something move in his chest; a sleepy sense of warmth spreading through him, filling him with the idea that, just maybe, things would be ok.

"Yeah. And we're both still here."

(-*-)

Gabriel had intended to be a gentleman. His sense of moral decency sat that the back of his brain, filing its nails and sending catty glares at the scene before him. His lustful animal side, however, was rattling the bars of its cage and very close to breaking the door. His inappropriate sense of humour mused on how Castiel would react if he knew…

"Mm." Sam broke away from the kiss, stepping back so that Gabriel slid down the back of the bedroom door and landed on the floor again. "The hell?"

"Sorry." Gabriel grinned, his cheeks flushed pink. "I uh… got sidetracked."

"Good." Sam scowled, backing off. "Good to know I'm holding your attention."

"Oh, no, don't…" Gabriel wound his hands around Sam's waist once more, kissing his bare chest. "I've spent all day being a perfect gentleman, and I was just a little disappointed that I couldn't hold out longer."

He felt Sam relax into the touch, and let his hands roam a little more, trailing across the dips of Sam's spine and waist. It was true, he thought, as he traced delicate lines and kisses over Sam's chest, loving every time he found a particularly sensitive area of skin. He was quite annoyed that he hadn't been able to hold out and be chaste for the duration of the day, but after their little sharing session over lunch, they had kept on sharing. Just little things, like favourite movies, books, past-times, Gabriel explaining how he went from trained chef to stand-up comic, Sam explaining how he and Dean ended up sharing a student apartment. Sam would speak like he felt he really wanted Gabriel to know whatever it was he was saying, and then he'd listen to Gabriel. Actually _listen_, paying attention, every movement and flicker of the eye saying that it _wasn't_ stupid and that it _mattered_ and for some reason Gabriel found that so indescribably hot that he'd suggested they take the party back to his apartment and yes, he was aware that he probably found it hot because it had been a long time since he'd been in the sort of relationship where his partner would even ask how his day was, and oh dear god if that wasn't a sad and revealing summary of his previous relationships-

"Gabriel." Sam sighed, glaring at him. "Seriously, if you're that distracted, I can just go."

Gabriel flashed an apologetic smile, before dropping to his knees and concentrating his kisses on Sam's stomach as he fumbled with the fly on his jeans.

"I can't help being a little distant, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy." Sam seemed quite disturbed by it, and he slapped at Gabriel's hand. "Dean calls me Sammy. You are not allowed to be that near my crotch and calling me Sammy."

"Samsquatch?" Gabriel supplied, but he only got a glare for his troubles. He resumed opening Sam's fly. "We can figure out pet names later… anyway, I'm allowed to be distracted. I got severely reprimanded the last time we did this."

"Wouldn't want that to happen again." Sam smiled at Gabriel, resting his hands on his shoulders and pulling lightly. Gabriel obligingly stood. "I promise I won't tell if you don't." He smiled, and it was such a soft, pure smile that somehow went beyond lust and into devotion, that Gabriel couldn't help but smirk back.

"Sounds like a plan." Gabriel moved his hands up to toy with Sam's hair, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck. "After all, we technically know each other better now, so I'm sure it's fine."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: So due to massive internet failure, there was a much longer than usual gap in updates. To make up for it, have a longer than usual update!**

**(-*-)**

Sam blinked awake, slowly becoming aware of Gabriel's room around him, Gabriel's sheets over him, and the man himself next to, and technically in front of him. Careful not to wake the other man, Sam rolled over onto his back and sat up, trying to see the clock. It had been several glorious weeks since they had agreed to make a serious go at a relationship, and autumn was fast giving way to winter. It was about a month until Thanksgiving, and Sam was slowly working his way up to broaching the next level of commitment with Gabriel. Slowly.

Very slowly.

There were icebergs that moved faster.

But it wasn't like Sam didn't have a reason.

Every time he tried to steer Gabriel towards a conversation about their relationship, he always managed to skip off in some entirely different direction. Gabriel was the Jet Ski to Sam's conversational cruise liner. It wasn't exactly surprising that his boyfriend the professional comic wasn't taking things seriously, but it was starting to grate a little. Sam sighed, and lay back on the bed, returning his attention to the other man.

Boyfriend. Had he just thought that word to himself? They hadn't really given themselves a label yet, but Gabriel had mentioned his general dislike for the term. He said it sounded juvenile. Sam had asked 'what would you want to be called then', and an awkward silence had descended. Still, they had promised to take it one day at a time. And who knows how the new day will unfold itself. Speaking of which…

Sam rolled over onto his side, a slightly wicked grin on his face as he watched Gabriel's breathing.

Sam had discovered, a week previously, that Gabriel had an incredibly sensitive spot just between his shoulder blades and, given how much Gabriel had tormented him on finding out he was ticklish, Sam thought it only fair to return the favour. He brushed his fingers ever so lightly across the sensitive spot, making Gabriel roll his shoulders and murmur something. Grinning even wider, Sam ran his fingernail over the patch of skin, delighting in how Gabriel, still mostly asleep, tried to wriggle away from his touch. Sam leant in and pressed a kiss there, licking and nibbling the skin, smiling as he felt a shudder in Gabriel's breathing.

"That is not fair play, Winchester." Gabriel muttered, but he had no hope of moving away as Sam grabbed him around the waist and held him close, pressing kisses across his shoulders and up his neck.

"Like you ever play fair."

"True." He brought a hand up to stroke the side of Sam's face as their ankles tangled together. "Not that I don't love being woken up like this… especially compared to my normal wakeup call of a Jack Russell to the gut, but why so cuddly?"

"I'm just enjoying being with you." Sam shrugged. "Aren't I allowed that?"

"Well, yeah." Gabriel rolled over and pushed himself up onto his elbows; sleep still heavy in his eyes as he looked at Sam. "But a little warning would be nice."

"Warning?" Sam pushed himself up so he was mirroring Gabriel. "This coming from the guy who jumped me in the middle of dinner last night?"

"That's… different." Gabriel shrugged, not quite meeting Sam's eyes.

"Why? Because you started it?"

"No."

"Well then why?"

"Because that's sex." Gabriel looked like he regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth. He shuffled back so he was sat against the headboard and staring at his knees. Sam felt a little guilty. He'd had this discussion with Gabriel. The older man was surprisingly unused to the more relationship-based aspects of relationships. Cuddling, holding hands, being paid unnecessary compliments… that had been their first argument, actually.

Sam had made a comment about Gabriel looking particularly stylish, and Gabriel had dissected and evaluated every possible angle, refusing to believe there wasn't some sort of back-handed jab or ulterior motive. It had taken Sam a frustrating thirty minute argument to convince Gabriel he'd just meant it as a compliment, because if you like someone and care about them, sometimes you want to say nice things. He'd kind of yelled it, actually, and Gabriel's hurt, confused expression made it clear they both felt about two inches tall.

The make-up sex was totally worth it, though.

Sam sighed, and sat up next to Gabriel, wrapping his arm around the other man's shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I forget, sometimes. You're not like the other people I've been with." Sam pressed his lips to Gabriel's shoulder, looking up into his eyes. "And that's awesome, but it means there are things I forget about you not liking."

Gabriel turned to look at Sam, tempted to be obstinate and keep arguing, but looking down into Sam's big brown eyes convinced him it probably wasn't worth it. Sam did puppy-dog eyes better than Murdock, and there was something worrying about how much Gabriel liked that.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." He conceded, leaning down. "Just that I'd like a little preparation time."

"Duly noted." Sam grinned, leaning up to close the gap between them. When they parted, Sam smiled. "I've got the day off today. Want to do something?"

"Something?" Gabriel grinned, pressing back in for another kiss, before working his way down to Sam's neck. "Is that what you kids are calling it now?"

"I was actually hoping for something that would mean us leaving the bedroom." Sam laughed, placing his hands on Gabriel's waist, in an attempt to be at least semi-serious.

"I don't know…" Gabriel mumbled, pressing kisses down Sam's chest. "I'm not much for exhibitionism…"

"No, seriously, Gabriel…" Sam pushed him back a little, laughing as Gabriel pouted. He ran a finger along the older man's cheek, taking in every line, freckle and blemish, and thinking that they only made him more wonderful. "I want to spend some time with you. Actual quality time. We could just… I don't know, do house-work or something. I want to be in your life for a day."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him.

"Be in my life for a day?" He repeated, smug grin firmly in place. "Well, we now know that if you ever do decide against being a lawyer, you could easily write greetings cards for a living."

Sam shoved Gabriel's arm, and Gabriel responded by moving so that he had one arm either side of Sam's chest, resting with faces just an inch apart.

"But I suppose, if you really want to just spend time together… I suppose we can do that." Gabriel smiled, leaning in closer and allowing himself to be hugged. "Although I can't guarantee sex won't be a part of it at some point."

"Deal." Sam laughed, kissing Gabriel's forehead.

(-*-)

Sam sat at the kitchen table, staring down at the weighty collection of loose sheets and note paper, all rammed into a notepad.

"Seriously? This is your joke filing system?"

"Yup." Gabriel grinned, sitting opposite him. Sam stared at the sheets of paper, some stained and dog-eared, none of them dated or organised. He struggled towards words. "But it's… it's…"

"A Joke?" Gabriel finished, waggling his eyebrows. Sam glared at him. "Hey, you said you wanted to help."

He sighed. It was a fair point. They'd cleaned and tidied everything, and Gabriel had said that, if Sam really wanted to do something useful, he could go through Gabriel's collection of material and sort it into "useable", "needs revising" and "unusable". And then, if he felt really wild, he might even want to go through the "needs revising" pile and make notes. Sam presumed Gabriel was doing this in an attempt to scare Sam off the domestic stuff. Sam had coolly accepted the challenge, since Gabriel had clearly underestimated Sam's innate nerdiness.

Gabriel sidled around to Sam's side of the table, kneading his shoulders and leaning in.

"Why? Is it a daunting task?"

"Are you kidding? I'm in my last year of Law School. I can sort and file case studies more complex than this in my sleep."

"Ooh… Big words for a guy who hasn't gotten started yet."

"And what are you going to be doing while I'm essentially doing your job for you?" Sam pulled the notepad towards him, and started on the loose-leaf sheets.

"Mm… Making you coffee?"

Sam thought for a moment, totally not being distracted by Gabriel pressing kisses to his neck at all.

"Deal. Who knows, if it's good enough, I might even hire you as my secretary."

Gabriel cuffed Sam over the head, and Sam slapped his ass in retaliation. Gabriel grinned, and started making coffee.

"Hey, what are these?"

"Mm?"

"They're not jokes. They look like character biographies. 'Jeremy Craig, thirty-two. Ladies man, man's man. Closeted.' 'Ellen Charpeau, thirty. Neurotic, virginal.' There's loads of them."

"Oh, those." Gabriel dismissed, taking the slips of paper from Sam and dropping them in the bin. "That's just from my script days. It's nothing."

"Script?" Sam was not so easily deterred. Gabriel shrugged off his curiosity.

"I used to write scripts. TV stuff. It was just temp work, a phase I went through a couple of years back. Not a raging success. You want anything for lunch?"

Sam was about to pursue the topic, when the intercom buzzed. Gabriel was quick to answer it.

"Smack Yo Ketch-up; Gangland cuisine. Our special offer today is a six pack of Tupac. How can I help, yo?"

Sam snorted, earning himself a wink from Gabriel.

"… I don't understand that one."

"Castiel…" Gabriel shot Sam a brief glance. Sam sat up a little straighter in his chair, but smiled back at Gabriel. He'd not met Castiel yet. "Come on up."

Gabriel turned to Sam, who completely failed to act like he hadn't been listening.

"Ready to meet the little brother?"

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat, realising he'd read the same sentence five times. Gabriel made three mugs of coffee, and Castiel knocked on the apartment door just in time to have Gabriel open it and press one into his hand.

"Hey, Castiel. What's up?"

"How do you do, I…" Castiel stopped, blinking at Sam. Sam stumbled to his feet and held his hand out.

"Hi. Uh, Sam. Winchester."

"Yes." Castiel nodded, looking Sam up and down. "I had guessed." He shook Sam's hand, and flashed a brief, uncomfortable smile. "Castiel. So you are Gabriel's boyf…"

Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, and Sam had to bite back a laugh.

"You are still set against use of that term." Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes. Gabriel shrugged, his casual slouch implying that he was very much of the opinion that he didn't have to explain to Castiel. "Well then what am I to call him?"

"Well, I call him 'sexy', but if that's inappropriate, I find 'Sam' works fine." Gabriel took his own mug of coffee, leaning against the counter. "So are you here for anything in particular, or..?"

"Um…" Castiel glanced at Sam briefly, before shaking his head. "No, nothing in particular… How is Dean?"

"Dean's good." Sam smiled, sitting back down in his chair. "He, uh… He's been better since he stopped seeing his guy… again." Sam thought for a moment, before looking at Castiel. "He didn't tell you the guy's name, did he?"

"If he had, I would be remiss to tell you." Castiel spoke in his stilted, restricted voice. Gabriel rolled his eyes. He could read Castiel like a book, and knew exactly what his younger brother had come here to talk about. His guy had broken up with him again. It was worse than ever, they seemed to be on and off every couple of weeks. Gabriel cleared his throat, attracting Castiel's attention.

"Sit down, stay a while. I'll go tell Murdock his Uncle Castiel's here, he'd love to give you a big muddy hug." Gabriel smirked, as he left the kitchen. "Oh! Almost forgot. Castiel? Sam's read Jane Eyre and thought it was a crock of shit. Discuss."

Gabriel darted out of the room, nerdy ice-breaker set into action.

By the time he returned and opened up some food for Murdock, Castiel and Sam were discussing Russian versus European literature, something Gabriel neither knew nor cared about.

"Hey, geeks, let's focus on the important thing here. Me." Gabriel wandered around to Sam's side, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he sneaked a peek over his shoulder. "And the fact that you're not doing the highly important job I asked you to do."

"Actually, I should probably be going." Castiel cleared his throat and stood, smiling at Sam. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Sam; I hope we see each other again soon."

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun." Sam smiled, holding his hand out again, and this time it was a much more amicable handshake. Castiel turned to his brother.

"I may come to speak with you tomorrow, if that's alright."

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel grinned, walking Castiel to the door. Castiel shared a brief smile with him, before nodding and leaving. It was about as close as he would get to a hug from his little brother, and it meant a lot.

When he got back to the kitchen, Sam stood and smiled at him.

"I like him."

"Knew you would." Gabriel winked, giving Sam another kiss. It was an outright lie, of course, in that the few times Gabriel had imagined Sam meeting his family, the idea had quickly been replaced with something less terrifying. Gabriel chastised himself for being so silly. Having Sam meet what little family Gabriel had was a good thing, and he shouldn't have presumed it would go badly.

Sam pulled back, a look of cautious optimism on his face.

"Hey, uh. So I've met Pamela and Murdock and Castiel now."

"Yeah."

"Do you… would you maybe want to meet my… I mean…" Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking awkward. "There's this… we always have thanksgiving dinner together, and I was wondering, because Ellen asked if I was bringing a guest, and…"

Gabriel smirked up at Sam.

"Use your words, Sam."

Sam gave his… gave _Gabriel_ a brief, unimpressed glare, before trying again.

"Ellen and Bobby have us for Thanksgiving dinner every year, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along."

Gabriel nodded, biting his lip. Sam patted his arm. He hoped he was disguising the warning bells that were clamouring around his head.

_What?_ He'd said it was silly for him to think that _Sam_ meeting _his_ family might go badly. The idea of _Gabriel_ meeting _Sam's_ family was a perfectly legitimate cause for total blind panic, everyone knows that. Amidst his thoughts, Gabriel hesitated just a moment too long.

"You don't have to. I understand if it's too soon. I just…" Sam shrugged, backing off and sitting down at the table once more. "I wanted to make the offer, before you made any other plans."

Gabriel stood for a moment, thinking over his options.

"Thanksgiving's not for a while. Can I think about it?"

"Sure." Sam smiled at him, and didn't that make Gabriel feel like a big ol' meanie, watching the spark of hope fly through Sam's eyes. He nodded, leaning against the kitchen counter as Sam set to work on organising Gabriel's notes.

He thought. He had never liked the term "boyfriend", just because it sounded so childish. Gabriel always made a point, in fact, that he hadn't had a "boyfriend" since his first one.

He liked "partner" better, but that implied some sort of long term commitment, which was way too soon to mention. So what was Sam, then? Romantic interest? Paramour? Date? They all sounded too fleeting, too new.

Where was the word for something that would hopefully become a long term commitment, but wasn't one just yet? They did need a word for it, because saying "that guy I've been seeing exclusively and wouldn't consider ending things with any time soon but don't want to scare off by making a big deal because it's only really been like a month", while accurate, was a bit of a mouthful.

He sniffed, and looked over at Sam.

"Will there be sweet potatoes?"

"Of course." Sam didn't look up from his sorting through the notes, reading each sheet with a firm-set face and critical eye.

"I'll think about it." Gabriel promised, before moving to stand behind Sam and massaging his shoulders once more. "So do you always look this hot in nerdy analyst mode? Because if so, I'm going to have to ban you from researching anything in a public place."

"Why?" Sam laughed, arching his back into the contact. "You want me all to yourself?"

And, to Gabriel's surprise, he realised he did. He really, really did. Gabriel let the contact linger, and Sam smiled at him.

"You know, you could always help me sort through these, and we'd get them done a lot faster."

"Faster?" Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam's neck.

"As in 'the faster we get these done, the faster I can get back to giving you the attention you're clearly craving'."

Sam turned back to the notes in the patriarchal manner of a nineteen fifties husband returning to his newspaper, and didn't that just make Gabriel roll over obediently. Sam was working on a theory that Gabriel got the most excited when he realised Sam wasn't going to put up with his shit. Gabriel wasn't used to being bossed around, he showed as much in the way he liked to decide how they came into contact and for how long, but just arguing with him wasn't going to win any favours, because Gabriel didn't like to admit he was wrong. Sam was working on the theory that Gabriel responded best to someone he couldn't trick or manipulate.

Gabriel was working on the theory that he really should get some work done anyway, and if Sam wanted to offer him an incentive, he wasn't going to rock the boat.

(-*-)

Two days later, Gabriel was still going through his material and rewriting to Sam's editorial notes, adding in his own flair, or combining two sets into one. It was a heavy duty job, and he was mid-way through cutting down a two minute diatribe to one minute's worth of cold hard gags, when he heard his buzzer.

"Put a Cork In It, America's first joint winery and library. Our book of the month is the Grapes of Wrath. How can I help you?"

"Gabriel." Castiel sounded distraught. "I've done a bad thing, I need advice."

Gabriel slammed the door open button, instantly worried. He knew his little brother better than he knew anyone else in the world, with the possible exception of Pamela. Pamela, who he was now phoning to demand she get her butt up there this instant. He was in such a sudden state of worry because he had lived in the same house as Castiel for fifteen years, and only had his younger brother ask twice for Gabriel's opinion on anything more serious than which shirt to wear. In short, he knew whatever problem Castiel had, it would have to be a doozie before he'd ask Gabriel for advice.

Gabriel opened a bottle of wine.

Pamela arrived.

Castiel arrived.

Castiel explained himself to the both of them.

They both ruminated over their wine glasses.

"I don't get it." Pamela said, eventually. "Why is that such a bad thing?"  
>"No, hold on." Gabriel was scrutinising his younger brother, taking in every fidgety movement, every twitch and furtive glance. Gabriel DiAngelo, body language expert was on the case. And, going by how many nervous ells Castiel was exhibiting, it was going to be a hell of a case. "There's more to it. You've encouraged Dean to confront his guy once and for all, saying that he has to stop trying to push Dean around."<p>

"I didn't convince him to do anything." Castiel protested. "I… I just encouraged him to…"

"Yeah, ok, whatever." Gabriel was still scrutinising Castiel, watching for every nervous quirk and subconscious tick. He hit on an idea. "You encouraged Dean. Because this was Dean's idea, right?"

"Yes."

"Dean who you have counselling sessions with. Dean Winchester."

"Yes…"

"Dean came up with this on his own, and you told Dean that he should do it, because you felt it would make Dean happy."

"Yes, Gabriel, that's what "encouraged" means."

"Oh, Castiel." Gabriel sat back, loving the fact that every time he mentioned Dean's name, his little brother got a little tenser and a little more flushed. "Oh dear, dear Castiel. Does someone have the hots for a certain Mr Winchester?"

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but his terrified eyes gave him the look of a rabbit caught in the headlights. Pamela leant forward and patted his hand.

"If there was ever going to be a moment where you could have denied it… that would have been it."

Castiel groaned, looking so upset and put upon as Gabriel and Pamela snickered to each other that Gabriel almost felt mean. Almost. He grinned.

"So you encouraged Dean to break it off, and now you're worried you're unprofessional because of your not-so-secret desire to pick up the pieces."

Castiel groaned again and slumped back into his chair. Pamela cooed.

"Honey, there's nothing wrong with that. Look; Dean wants to break it off with this guy who's been screwing him around, right?"

"Yes…"

"So breaking it off is only going to do him good, and your encouragement just means that you're there for him. To help him." She smiled. "If he happens to see you as more than a friend because you were there for him, then that's an added benefit, right?"

"But Dean Winchester will never see me as any more than his counsellor." Castiel sighed, turning mournful eyes to Gabriel. "He still refuses to admit his homosexuality, even to himself."

"But he's… he admits he's having sex with this guy, right?"

"Yes. Please, Gabriel, don't attempt to treat it with rational thought; I have been counselling the man for two hours, every week, for a month, and I haven't succeeded. According to Dean, occasionally having sexual relations with one man does not make him a homosexual."

"Well, isn't it just like you to take the most difficult option?" Gabriel rolled his eyes, before taking a deep breath. "Ok. Ok, we can spin this… So seeing this guy go is not the end of Dean's problems. And I think we can say for definite whether or not he's interested in you by how he acts after he's broken it off."  
>"Right!" Pamela picked up, patting Gabriel's shoulder. "If he comes back to you for more counselling sessions, then he knows he has to deal with this issue that he's gay. And it'll mean he wants to keep seeing you."<p>

"And if he doesn't, then he's a lost cause, not worth your time." Gabriel took a triumphant swig from his wine, before a thought struck him. "Wait… I thought Sam said Dean had already broken it off with this mystery man?"

"No…" Castiel sighed, running his fingers around the edge of his wine glass. "He has fallen into an unhealthy pattern of supposed "last ever" nights with this man, on a near weekly basis."

"Ouch." Pamela cooed, holding her hand out for Castiel, which he took, gladly. Gabriel huffed a despairing sort of half laugh.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just weird how I was thinking something similar about…" The revelation struck Gabriel. A wicked, shocking revelation that left all others in the dust. "Nothing. Are you going to be there with him, for moral support? When he does it?"

"I don't know." Castiel thought. "I suppose I should suggest it to him?"

"I think that would be a good idea." Gabriel nodded, hiding his sly grin in his wine glass. If he was right about this, it would be the joke to end all jokes.

A mechanic, a counsellor and a psychology lecturer walk into a bar…

(-*-)

"Oh come on!" Gabriel leant on the bar, his hands clasped, staring up at Sam. He knew he was making an ass of himself, but if it meant embarrassing Sam into agreeing with him, he would gladly bear the shame.

"No. Gabriel." Sam hissed at him. He was supposed to be working. Admittedly, it was a slow night, and it wasn't like he had any customers to serve or outstanding duties, but it didn't look good to be chatting with someone. Especially when the "someone" was pleading and wheedling like a desperate child.

"But Sam…"

"No. I'm not meddling in this. It's between Dean and whoever he invites along." He flapped a dishcloth in Gabriel's face, and scowled. "It's none of our business."

"But… think about it! It'll be hilarious!"

"You can't even know you're right, you're just guessing."

"I'm almost always right about these things."

"Yeah." Sam gave up trying to look busy, because Gabriel wasn't getting the hint. "Like when you were right about Dean and Castiel dating each other."

"I said, 'almost'." Gabriel shrugged, before resuming his wheedling. "Come on! I bet you what you like I'm right."

"Oh really?" Sam leant against the bar, unable to resist smiling.

"Hells yeah!" Gabriel grinned, happy now he had Sam's attention. "If I'm right about this, you have to be my servant for a whole day. No questions asked, you do everything I tell you to."

Sam tried to give Gabriel an unimpressed look, but found the other man's sly grin too much not to laugh at.

"And what if I win?"

Gabriel thought for a moment, before shooting Sam a more hesitant smile.

"If _you're_ right… I go to the Thanksgiving thing with your family, and for the day I'll be perfectly personable. I'll even let you call me your boyfriend."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Gabriel, looking for the loophole. Gabriel stared back at him with honesty. Honesty and a little bit of a pleading pout.

"Fine."

Gabriel punched the air in celebration, and Sam couldn't help laughing.

"Now get lost, I'm going to get in trouble if the boss sees me talking to you."

Gabriel leant over the bar and gave him a quick kiss, which he couldn't resist making it a little inappropriate and nibbling Sam's lip, before laughing his way out of the bar. Sam watched him go, before turning back to the glasses he was supposed to be putting away. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to it. He couldn't believe Gabriel had suggested it.

He was, just generally, rather disbelieving.


	12. Chapter 12

Sam still couldn't believe he'd agreed to it. The minute Dean had said "wish me luck" and left the apartment, Sam had been on the phone to Gabriel. Now, here they were, sat in a shady corner of 'Le Couers de Couers', watching Dean and Castiel make small talk.

"Dammit, why can't they be into guys who are punctual?" Gabriel sighed, glancing at his watch.

"You mean why can't _Dean _be into guys who are punctual." Sam corrected, staring as his brother spoke animatedly with Castiel. "They're not seeing the same guy."

"They so are." Gabriel countered, smirking as he reached for his wine. Sam just kept watching his brother.

"I never knew they were such good friends… I mean I get that you'd have a special relationship with your counsellor, but I don't think I've ever seen Dean be so friendly with someone who isn't related to him. Look how he's smiling… Once I'd met Castiel, I didn't think that they'd get on too well, but… Castiel must really like him, huh?"

Gabriel choked as he laughed into his wine. He cleared his throat and composed himself, before grabbing a menu.

"Shall we order, since it seems we're going to be here for a while?"

"What was that?"

"Ooh, look the special's beef wellington, I recommend it…"

"Gabriel…"

"You know, I never did thank you for sorting through my notes, it was a big help. I'll pay, how about that?"

Sam wasn't so easily distracted, but he knew Gabriel could (and would) go through every other subject available before he'd talk. Sam turned to the menu, giving Gabriel a suspicious look.

"You still up for the bet?" Gabriel grinned, as he summoned the waiter. "Not that I'd let you call it off, mind."

"Oh, no, I'm fine." Sam smiled. "You'll want to bring a sweater when we go to Bobby and Ellen's; we usually spend most of the evening outside and it can get pretty cold."

"That's good, because when I win, and you're my slave for the day, you'll want to dress down." Gabriel shot back. "And stock up on lube."

"Lovely." The waiter sighed, walking into the conversation at just the wrong moment. "And to drink?"

Gabriel smirked up; apparently his war with the serving staff here was ongoing. The waiter turned to Sam, smiling sweetly.

"Sir, would you like to order?"

Sam ordered for both of them, as the waiter was pointedly ignoring Gabriel, and resumed watching Dean. Castiel said something, stood and left. Dean seemed a little nervous.

"So what do you want to do after this?" Gabriel sighed, checking his watch. "Dinner will probably be over by eight, we could catch a movie or something."

"I can't. I've been skimping on my study lately; I need to get some work done." It was said with all the excitement usually reserved for getting a root canal or being sent to prison. Gabriel nudged his foot, under the table.

"I take it your excitement towards the concept of lawyer-hood has not yet returned."

"Nope."

"Want to… I don't know, do you want to talk it out, or..?"

Gabriel cringed slightly. The words had failed him, but the thought was there. Sam chuckled a little, his hand slipping over Gabriel's.

"No, it's ok. I've been working two jobs to get myself through law school; I've been working for it ever since middle school. I'm just hitting the home stretch. Giving up now would be the worst thing I could do."

Gabriel smiled a little, gripping Sam's hand in his.

"Well… You know, if you ever need to bitch about it…"

"I know." Sam smiled, lifting Gabriel's hand to his lips. For once, they let the affection linger, just for a moment. Gabriel realised it was nice, being honest. He'd have to try it more often.

"Oh!" Sam's head jerked round as he caught something out of the corner of his eye. "There he is! Oh my God…"

A man was approaching Dean's table. He was smartly dressed, all in blacks, with short, brown-grey hair and a snide grin in place. Dean greeted him nervously, but clearly setting boundaries. Handshake. That was where they were.

The man cocked an eyebrow at that, but sat down with Dean all the same. Dean began talking.

"Oh God…" Sam said again, because he couldn't really think of anything else. "That's Crowley! He's Dean's old psychology lecturer."

"Really?" Gabriel smirked. "Psychology, you say?"

"Yeah." Sam was oblivious to Gabriel's cat-that-got-the-cream grin. "Dean was in college for, like, a year and a half before he dropped out… I can believe he was dating his psychology lecturer."

"And… this was at Stanford, yes?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just checking. Oh look, here's Castiel."

Castiel returned from wherever he'd gone to, stopping dead when he saw the newcomer. After a moment's hesitation, he started talking, everything about him implying discomfort. The man, Crowley, seemed slightly uneasy as he looked from Dean to Castiel.

Dean spoke. Castiel spoke. Crowley seemed to think for a moment, before shrugging and standing to leave.

Dean stood too, and although Sam wasn't as good at reading body language as Gabriel was, it was pretty easy to guess what Dean was saying, based on Dean's scowl and the fact he was pointing at himself, Crowley and Castiel in turn. He was quite obviously voicing his discomfort and requesting to be graced with the exact details of their current predicament.

Castiel was standing back, looking rather confused and ashamed.

Crowley didn't seem to give a shit. He'd had his fun, he'd been rumbled. He could find another student to pressure into something, and find another co-worker to occupy him in his downtime.

Dean seemed more than a little annoyed by this. Crowley seemed to suggest that it wasn't his problem. Dean pointed at Castiel again, and whatever he said made the people at the surrounding tables stop to watch.

Castiel rested his hand on Dean's arm, looking hurt, but determined to maintain his dignity. He shot Crowley a glare as he began to shepherd Dean out of the restaurant.

Crowley said something that caused Dean to stop, and turn around.

Dean walked up to Crowley, punched him in the face, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left. Castiel, looking all kinds of confused, went after him.

Sam turned to gape at Gabriel.

"Oh my God… did you see that?"

"Yup." Gabriel smirked. "Your brother's got a mean right hook."

"But… wow…"

"Yup." Gabriel carried on smirking. Sam shook his head.

"That did not mean he was playing the both of them."

"Apart from that bit where it did." Gabriel sighed, before slipping his phone out of his pocket. "Hang on." He dialled Castiel, and put the phone on speaker, holding it out between them. The phone rang for a while, before Castiel finally answered, sounding a little haggard.

"Hello?"

"Castiel. So, its seven thirty, didn't you say Dean was meeting mystery guy at seven?" Gabriel shot a wink at Sam, before continuing to feign innocence. "What happened? The suspense is killing me!"

"Gabriel… I really do not wish to talk about it…"

"But Murdock and I want to know!"

"I… There was an… altercation." Castiel's voice was stilted, sounding as though the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was talking on the phone.

"What? You mean like a fight? Why?"

"Gabriel…"

"What?"

Castiel sighed, clearly getting the message that Gabriel wouldn't be distracted.

"I knew the man Dean was involved with. I had… been in a similar situation with him, in fact."

"Wait, whoa…" Gabriel feigned exaggerated surprise, and Sam nearly punched him. "Are you saying that… your mystery guy, and Dean's mystery guy…"

"Yes. Now please, Gabriel, I can't talk. Goodbye."

Castiel hung up. Gabriel smirked at Sam, sitting back just in time for the waiter to bring their orders.

"Say it."

"I'm not your slave yet." Sam smiled up at the waiter, who gave them both curious looks as he walked away. Gabriel just carried on smirking.

"Then I'll say it. I won."

"Yeah, fine." Sam started eating, trying not to focus on how disappointed he was. He'd known not to rely on Gabriel holding up to his end of the bet anyway, and Sam wouldn't dream of pushing Gabriel into anything he wasn't comfortable with, but… He'd gotten quite excited about Gabriel meeting his family. He'd thought about it probably more than he should have, so it was silly to be disappointed now.

Gabriel watched him for a moment, before picking up his knife and fork.

"You know… actually, I have a confession to make." He looked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Castiel actually broke it off with Crowley three days ago. For good, this time. He said he should practice what he preached." Gabriel let it sink in, before seeming to think for a moment. "So, technically, Castiel and Dean weren't seeing the same guy, as of three days ago. I suppose, technically, we're both right. I wonder how that affects the bet…"

Sam watched him, for a moment, a wary smile growing across his face.

"We could… we could both claim our prizes."

Gabriel smiled, feeling truly honest for the second time that night.

"That sounds fair."

(-*-)

Thanksgiving was a little under three weeks away. Sam had caught up with his studies (nearly, anyway), and he now had his glorious Thursday afternoon off. Dean had been weird, ever since the Crowley incident, which was reason enough for Sam not to head back to the apartment. Instead, he went to Gabriel's building.

He buzzed the intercom, and was surprised when no one answered. He rang Gabriel's phone, and it went through to voicemail. Feeling the sparks of worry ignite in his chest, Sam thought for a moment before buzzing the intercom for Pamela's apartment.

"Howdy."

"Pamela? It's Sam."

"Sam? Hey, what's up?"

"Do you know where Gabriel is? I just buzzed his apartment and phoned him, and there was no answer…"

"Oh." Pamela sighed, sounding weary. "You better come on up to mine, we'll go see him together."

That did little to lessen Sam's worry, and he took the stairs two at a time to get to Pamela's apartment.

(-*-)

"Gabriel." Pamela hammered on his door, making Sam jump a little. She turned to him, and muttered. "Look, Sam. You have to remember; when he's like this, he doesn't mean anything he says, ok? He's pushed more than one person away by being the moody S.O.B that he is; don't let him do it to you."

"Ok." Sam nodded; worry having long since ignited itself into a full-scale fire in his chest.

"Be a wall." Pamela advised. "Still, controlled, and just carrying on with its existence. He'll say a lot of things just to get at you, but he doesn't mean it. Remember, he's just having a bad day." She smiled at him, patting his hand reassuringly before hammering on the door again.

"Gabriel! I know you're in there, I can hear Murdock whining at you."

"Alright!"

Sam had never heard Gabriel yell before. They'd argued, once or twice, bickering mostly. But he'd never heard him so… angry.

The door swung open, and Gabriel looked slightly thrown when he saw Sam.

"I didn't buzz you in."

"No," Pamela sighed, patting him on the arm. "I found this poor dear wandering around looking for scraps. You want to be careful, or people might think he's a stray." She smiled, before slapping Sam's ass and wandering off, humming something that sounded very like "Wonderwall".

Gabriel scowled after her for a moment, before going back into his living room. Sam supposed that was as close to an invitation as he was going to get, so he went inside and shut the door.

"I was worried." He started, watching Gabriel lie down on the sofa and stare up at the soap opera that was babbling away on the TV. "If you didn't want to see me, you could have just said."

"I'd have thought that was implied by not letting you in to the building." Gabriel didn't look away from the TV. "And yet, here you are."

"Well, yeah, I wanted to make sure you were ok." Sam sat down on the end of the couch, by Gabriel's feet. "Plus, it's not like we've got to spend much time together in the last week or so."

"Mm." Gabriel grunted.

Murdock ran up to Sam, instantly trying to communicate whatever it was that was on his worried little doggy mind, barking, whining and nuzzling.

"Shut up, Murdock." Gabriel scowled. Sam scooped up the dog in his arms.

"Hey, just because you're in a bad mood, doesn't mean you should yell at him. Have you fed him today?"

"Yes. Don't come in here and tell me how to look after my dog." Gabriel sat up, glaring at Sam. Sam almost rose to the bait, before remembering Pamela's advice. He took a deep breath, and turned away.

"Then he's probably just lonely. Have you eaten yet? We could go out for lunch and give Murdock a walk on the way."

"Hey, that's an idea. I've got a better one though. Why don't you go for a walk, and this time, not get the blind slut downstairs to buzz you in."

"Gabriel." Sam scolded, putting Murdock down. "You shouldn't talk about Pamela like that."

"I'll talk about her any way I want, what's it to you?" Gabriel stood, arms crossed.

"Well I've gotten to talk to her quite a lot recently. I'd like to think she's my friend too."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Sam Winchester just has to be everyone's friend. Can't just tell people to fuck off… Why the fuck do you care, anyway? It's not like I asked you to…"

Sam tried not to respond. He did. But seeing Gabriel being so closed off, so purposefully distanced from everyone… from him…

"I care, Gabriel. I'd have thought, by now, you'd have grasped that concept, but apparently not. So let me spell it out for you. I want to see you happy. I don't want to see you hurting yourself, or hurting the people that are important to you."

"Fuck off."

"I care about you, Gabriel. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

"You don't care." He sneered, looking at Sam like he was a child. "You just want someone to take your mind off your fucked up academic life, and you've gotten over-involved in the fantasy."

"That is not true. I don't think that way about you…"

"Well then why the fuck are you here?"

"Because I wanted to see you!" Sam was getting frustrated, and Gabriel was an immovable ball of passive-aggressive angst. "I wanted to spend time with you, because that's what you do with people you…" Sam silenced himself, clamping his mouth shut and turning away. Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"People you what? People you screw? People you pick up in a bar?"

"I need a drink." Sam went into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, trying desperately to recollect his thoughts. Gabriel wasn't about to offer him that luxury.

"Because that's what this is, right? A bar pickup that got way too involved."

"You know, you can forget Thanksgiving if you're going to act like this."

"Way to prove my point, ass."

"Alright, enough." Sam glared at Gabriel, trying to remain calm, but already feeling his temper rising. "I am not going to argue with you, because we're both saying things we don't mean…"

"Don't presume to know me, Sam." Gabriel glared at him, a hint of a bitter smile in his eye. "You have no goddamn idea about who I am, about what I've done."

Sam was fast getting lost in the argument, his usual, logical approach offering no help. He felt kind of like he was drowning, and every time he nearly got a hold on something to keep him afloat, it seemed to disappear. Waves of misdirected anger were crashing over his head, and he wasn't sure how long he could cope.

"No, but I would like the chance to learn, which is why I'm…"

"Learn." Gabriel scoffed, making sure he was standing in the kitchen doorway, blocking Sam's exit. "So you can twist my words, right?"

"No, I..."

"Or so you can find a reason to leave, guilt-free?"  
>"No! Gabriel, I don't…"<p>

"Or maybe it's a charity case. The poor middle aged sap on stage moaning about his life, may as well give him a pity fuck or two, right?"

"What? That's ridiculous."

"So now I'm ridiculous?"

"No, I didn't say you were ridiculous, I said that idea is ridiculous…"

"Same thing."

"No it's not! I am not dating you out of sympathy, Gabriel. And you're not middle-aged… look, let's just calm down…"

"No. You're so quick to deny everything, you tell me. Why the fuck do you give a shit what I do with my life?"

"Because…"

"Why?"

"Because I love you!"

It was hardly the happy declaration of heartfelt honesty. Silence fell in the wake of Sam's words, everything suddenly too clear and too obvious, where before it had been cloudy and confused. Sam dropped his glass in the sink and pushed past Gabriel, his common sense at last kicking in and screaming at him to get the hell out of there, now. Gabriel made no attempt to call him back, but stood in the kitchen, staring at the floor.

(-*-)

Dean was useless. Sam had always suspected his brother was useless, but the fact had finally been proven as Sam stormed home, getting more and more worked up. By the time he got to their building, he really hoped Dean was home and had done something stupid, so he could yell at him. It was then that Sam's phone went, with a text from Dean.

"Just got out of counselling. Mentioned to Cas that I'd never seen a live game of ice hockey, and he decided we'd have to go and see one. Will be back… I dunno, later, probably."

Your honour, we find the defendant completely and utterly useless.

Sam threw himself down on the couch, and turned on the TV. He stared at it for a while before turning it off again. He went into the kitchen and started cooking himself some macaroni and cheese for lunch. He got about halfway through, burned it, and threw it in the bin. He wasn't hungry anyway.

Damn Gabriel.

Damn Gabriel and his ability to bring out the best and the worst in Sam, simultaneously.

Damn Gabriel and his insecurities.

Damn Sam and his inability to stop thinking about Gabriel. He couldn't relax. He had too much anger, too much energy. He wanted to hit something.

No he didn't. He wanted to scream.

No, he didn't. He wanted to screw Gabriel.

Sam didn't know what he wanted, so he lay face down on the couch and just breathed for a while, occasionally punching a cushion. That did something to clear his head. After about ten minutes of that, he was still pissed off, but he was calm enough to know that he needed some exercise. It was too cold for jogging to sound appealing, so Sam changed into a vest and some sweatpants, and did his home work out. Feet under the end of the couch, thirty sit-ups. Pull-up bar across the doorway to his room, thirty pull-ups. Get his dumbbells out of the bottom of the closet, lift weights for ten minutes. Repeat until fatigued.

Alright, Sam thought. Maybe Dean wasn't completely useless. When twelve year old Sam had come to him bemoaning bullies, Dean had suggested Sam work out. That way, even if he never got strong (which, thanks to pubescent growth spurts, he totally did), he could at the very least run away. Sam had kind of gotten hooked on it at that point, and now he found it very relaxing.

As he was about to start on the pull-ups for circuit two, his phone rang. He answered without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

Sam bit his lip.

"Gabriel."

"Yeah… I'm outside. Can I come up?"

Sam sighed for a moment, getting his brain out of work-out mode, and dragging himself back to reality. Gabriel sounded a little nervous at Sam's hesitation.

"I just want to talk. No fighting, honest."

"Sure, come up."

Sam hung up and went to the bathroom, washing away some of the exercise glow he'd accumulated. When Gabriel arrived, he took in the sight of Sam in his workout gear, and the weights on the floor, and gave a sheepish smile.

"You've, uh… You been working out?"

"Yeah." Sam sniffed, leaning against the wall. "It's a stress relief thing."

Gabriel nodded, looking Sam up and down.

"You must be pretty stressed."

"Could say that." Sam remained as neutral as possible. Gabriel scratched the back of his neck, looking at Sam's feet. "So… Did you mean it? What you said before?"

"Yes."

"Wow… so, I'm a tool."

"Yes. Doesn't change how I feel, though."

Gabriel looked up at that, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I just… I have bad days. Castiel thinks it's anxiety or paranoia or something. And I know it's not an excuse, but… I don't know. Sometimes I just… can't deal with people being nice to me." He shrugged, looking away. "I'm weird, I guess. Whatever. But you're busy with your work out. I just came to say sorry, and I've said it, so I should go."

Gabriel headed for the door, but Sam grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Gabriel. Stop it. I know you have bad moods, ok? You told me that on our first date. And I can deal with that. But you need to let me deal with that. You need to let me be there for you, and accept that I care about you."

Gabriel looked at Sam, really stared, straight into his eyes, and nodded. Sam pulled him into a hug.

"I love you. Even if you don't."

"Thank you." Gabriel sighed, with something of a bitter laugh. "Lesser men than you have walked because of tantrums like that."

"I know." Sam sighed, pressing a kiss to Gabriel's forehead. They stood there for a while, leaning against the wall, wrapped in each other's arms, just enjoying being together.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Dean?"

"He went out. Said something about a hockey game, I don't know."

"Oh."

Gabriel rested back against Sam's chest, and they lapsed back into silence.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

"Good to know." Sam pushed Gabriel's chin up so they were looking at each other, and smiled. He kissed him, deep and passionate, showing exactly how much the words meant. When they broke away, Gabriel's eyes were lidded as he stared at Sam's lips.

"So… would it be pushing it to mention make-up sex?"

Sam laughed, the tension of the moment broken. Gabriel grinned up at him.

"What? It's your fault! You're all hot and sweaty and… pheromone-y."

Sam just carried on laughing, pulling Gabriel in for another kiss, before leading him to his bedroom.

Alright, so Dean wasn't actually useless, and knew when to get himself out of the way. Sam was glad of that, at least.


	13. Chapter 13

Gabriel laughed as Sam wrapped his long, sporty limbs around him, burying his face in the crook of Gabriel's neck.

"Middle-of-the-day make-up sex is my new favourite." He smiled.

"What, more than the soufflés?" Gabriel gasped, acting scandalised. "You hussy."

"Just take the compliment." Sam growled, knowing that right now he was about as threatening as a muppet baby. Gabriel sighed, wriggling in Sam's arms until they were more comfortably embraced.

"You really are one of a kind." He despaired of the younger man. To have a full on fight and make up like that in one day... Gabriel marvelled at him  
>"You're pretty special yourself." Sam mumbled back, before dragging himself away from Gabriel and getting up.<p>

"Where are you going?"

"Shower." Sam grunted, his voice catching as he stretched his arms above his head.

"Pretty strenuous day for you, huh?" Gabriel sat up in bed, watching the younger man. Sam smiled at him, and Gabriel was not at all oblivious to how it made his stomach flip. He'd known he was in love with Sam for a long time, probably since they first started dating, but to finally say the words out loud put them in a scary new territory. Scary, but not unwelcome. "I'm sorry for being such a douche."

"Hey, nu-uh." Sam grabbed Gabriel's hand, pressing a kiss to his fingers. "We've done that. You said sorry. We're made up. Now we live and learn. That's how it works."

"Really?" Gabriel chuckled, gripping Sam's hand in his. "Simple as that?"

"Always."

Gabriel smiled at him for a moment longer, amazed that Sam could be so… pure. Sam who was training to be a lawyer. Sam who's dad had been deemed unsuitable to care for him. Sam who'd had hardship after hardship, but still somehow held the belief that humanity… that Gabriel… was fundamentally good. How could anyone do that? Gabriel had seen hardship just like Sam, but it had turned him cynical, sarcastic. Sam's continued hope, his belief that people will want to do the good thing, the right thing, was simultaneously beautiful and horrible. It put Gabriel's actions under a microscope, and he really hoped he could deliver.

"What?" Sam laughed, smirking as Gabriel examined him. Gabriel shook away the thought.

"Nothing. Love you."

Sam blushed at the words, spreading an instant grin across Gabriel's face.

"So are you set on that shower?"

"Yeah. Unless you want to be first in the bathroom?"

Gabriel nodded, giving Sam's hand one last squeeze before getting up.

"I'll be quick."

And he had been. A quick wash and slight theft of Sam's deodorant, and Gabriel was getting dressed. Sam, however, took long showers. Gabriel checked his watch and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hey, Aquaman."

"Yeah?" Sam's voice was distorted by the running water.

"I need to get going. I have a dog to feed and a friend I should probably apologise to."

"Ok…" The water slowly trickled to a halt. "Wait, I'll be out in a minute."

Gabriel beamed, because he just couldn't stop, and went to the door to get his shoes. It was at that moment that Dean entered through the front door.

"Oh." He said.

"Oh." Gabriel agreed.

"Hi." Dean tried. After a while of silent panic, Gabriel remembered how to speak.

"Hi. Sorry, I was told you were elsewhere. It's Dean, right?" He held out his hand. "Gabriel. I was, uh…"

"Here with Sam." Dean finished, shaking his hand. Dean wasn't overly hostile, but there were some choice looks thrown in there. "Where is he?"

"He's just… in the bathroom." Gabriel gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom, biting his tongue before he could embarrass everyone by saying 'totally not having a shower because of all the sex we totally didn't just have'. Dean was not as tall as Sam, but he was as wide across the shoulders, maybe more so. Gabriel had never seen him close up before, and never had a conversation with him. He had a scary big brother vibe going on, and Gabriel was really hoping Sam would step in and maybe stop his brother from committing murder.

"Oh." Dean nodded, still looking Gabriel over. "So… I hear you're coming to Thanksgiving dinner with us."

"Yeah, from what Sam's told me, it should be fun."

"Fun." Dean nodded. Gabriel bit his cheek. Dean didn't appreciate strangers making 'fun'. From what Sam had told him, he knew Dean was a fairly easy-going guy, as long as he knew your angle. And as long as you didn't stand to hurt his family. Gabriel backtracked hastily.

"I mean, it'll be great to meet Sam's family at last. He's already met most of my important people, so… you know, seeing where he came from will, uh…"

"No." Dean shook his head, still scrutinising Gabriel. "You don't want to do it. I can tell, you're not the kind of guy who does the whole family thing."

Gabriel blinked before stepping back a little. He wasn't used to having someone read him the way he read everyone else. But, now he was paying attention, he realised that Dean was looking at him with the same shrewd analysis Gabriel usually gave to audience members. He made a snap decision.

"No. I'm like you that way, right? Enough troubles of my own, don't want to get muddled up in a whole new universe. More people, more problems, am I right? But Sam wants me to meet them, and I get that it's important to him. If it's important to him, it's important to me. That's where we stand."

Dean's thin-lipped scowl slowly twitched into a smirk.

"That's where we stand."

Gabriel was glad Dean hadn't done the whole "if you hurt my little brother" speech, because he knew he wouldn't have been able to hold his tongue for it. They had met, and they had both said all they needed to right now. Gabriel felt a spark of grudging respect for Dean. If Castiel ever brought a guy home, that was probably how he would have treated the situation.

"Hey Gabe…" It was at that moment that Sam left the bathroom with nothing but a towel between him and the elements. He did not instantly notice the body count. "I've got the afternoon free. Do you want to hang out some more? We could stick a DVD on and not watch it…"

He saw Gabriel. He saw Dean. He stared at them both for a second, and half ran into his bedroom. Gabriel slowly returned to face Dean, who looked like he was struggling to keep hold of whatever grudging respect Gabriel had managed to wrangle out of him. Gabriel swallowed a laugh.

"Look! There in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Super Awkward!"

Dean laughed, grudgingly.

"If Sam being awkward surprises you, you clearly haven't spent much time with him."

"Oh no, it doesn't surprise me. But it never ceases to amaze."

Dean nodded, chuckling.

"Good meeting you."

"You too." Gabriel smiled back, feeling as though he had met a worthy adversary. Sam rushed back from his bedroom, jeans on and t shirt thrown over him, mumbling various things as he jostled Gabriel out of the apartment. They were just through the front door when Dean called out.

"Oh, and Gabriel? This was just the preliminary. I'm sure we'll talk more at Thanksgiving."

Gabriel had a feeling that threat would sit heavier than the turkey.

(-*-)

After that, both Sam and Gabriel felt like there was a countdown running between them and Thanksgiving, and it was freaking Gabriel out. For the next few days, Sam would hear his phone trill at random intervals, announcing another text from Gabriel who was trying (and failing) to act cool.

'_Hey Sam. We're just staying for the evening, right? Won't need to pack a bag?'_

'_It's Bobby, Ellen, Jo and Dean, right? No one I've forgotten?'_

'_When you said Bobby was Old school, how old school are we talking? Shotgun on the porch kind of old school or…'_

And Sam would always respond quickly and soothingly, although not without some light teasing. Sam thought it was adorable that Gabriel was trying to plan out how to act and what to say, especially because it meant that he cared what Sam's family thought of him. Not that he'd ever tell Gabriel that, because Gabriel would probably pull a murder-suicide if Sam ever called him "adorable". He would usually end any response to Gabriel's texts by asking 'why, are you getting scared?'

Which Gabriel would, of course, respond to with some kind of smart-alec comment. That was why Sam started to worry when, on a Wednesday of all days, Gabriel didn't text back. An hour passed, and still no response. Two, three… Sam was in class, so it wasn't like he could call and check, but no matter how many times he told himself it was probably nothing, he couldn't shake the cold, uncomfortable knot that had settled in his stomach. As soon as class let out, he was on the phone.

It rang for an agonisingly long time, and Sam was about ready to hang up when it was finally answered.

"Gabriel DiAngelo's phone, who is speaking, please?"

Sam didn't instantly recognise the unfamiliar voice, but he only knew one person who could speak like that and have reason to answer Gabriel's phone.

"Castiel?"

"Yes. Who is speaking?"

"It's Sam. Castiel, what's going on? Where's Gabriel?"

"Sam. It's good you called. Gabriel is… fine."

The pause set Sam's nerves crackling under his skin, twisting the knot in his stomach even further.

"Where is he?"

(-*-)

The hospital was the same as any other; clean, clinical and passive-aggressive in its assault on the visitors' senses. Nurses and Doctors strode smartly through the corridors and along the wards, quiet chatter merging with bleeping machines and rattling breaths in a tuneless melody over the incessant beat of footsteps.

Untouched by the quiet buzz of prolonged lives and near deaths, a small man sat in a chair. He had not moved. He had been in the ambulance with the woman who lay in the bed next to him. He had demanded to see her as soon as possible. He had been nice enough to the nurses and doctors who spoke to him, but whenever they weren't speaking to him, he resorted to hunching over in his chair, staring at the unconscious woman, a morose, fearful sadness on his face. Every now and then, his hand would hover over hers, staying there for a moment before cautiously retracting. As if he was afraid he would hurt her.

He had been there for three and a half hours. At first, he had been frantic. Pacing, demanding, and showing all the signs of someone who had seen a loved one have an accident. Nothing anyone said to him had managed to keep him calm for more than a few minutes, until a taller man had arrived. The nurses saw him as something of an angel, descending with his trench-coat flapping and billowing around him, calming the man with quick, quiet words. Whatever he had said, it had worked. The man went quiet, and sat down. The other man, in the trench-coat, left just as quietly as he'd arrived, taking one nurse aside and suggesting she monitor the small man for signs of shock or distress.

The small man wasn't that small. He was about five foot seven, five foot eight, and fairly slim. When he spoke, the nurses got the impression that he was used to being in front of people, commanding them or controlling them. But as he sat, hunched in his chair like a frightened child, staring at the unconscious form of his friend, he felt small. He felt like a tiny, snivelling, pathetic grub.

At three and three quarter hours, a very tall man arrived, asking for the unconscious patient. When he saw the small man, he seemed to be shocked himself. The small man just let himself be hugged and showered in kisses.

"I can't leave her." Gabriel whispered into Sam's collar, his fingers gripping the younger man's shirt. "I won't."

"I won't make you." Sam soothed, rubbing his thumb over the nape of Gabriel's neck. Gabriel smiled and gave a bitter half-laugh at that, which, if Sam heard, he didn't acknowledge. "You want to talk about what happened?"

Gabriel sniffed, pulling away from the hug but not out of Sam's arms. He stared at the wall.

"I… we were seeing if we could find any local open mic nights to test out new material. We were in this one place and… I said the wrong thing to the wrong guy, he got pissed, started getting angry. He made a grab at Pamela, she slipped, cracked her head against the bar." Gabriel cleared his throat, as if hoping to shift the lump that wasn't really there. It almost scared Sam to see this much honesty in Gabriel. "It was my fault."

"Hey, no." Sam hugged him again, realising he had no previous experience in this area. "No, it wasn't you. And… you know Pamela would tell you to stop talking like that." Gabriel sniffed another bitter laugh. Sam hugged him tight. "I think you need some coffee."

"I think you're probably right."

"Let's go down to the cafeteria, just for a while, just to get you your normal annoying self. Then you can come back here and irritate her awake."

Gabriel buried his face in Sam's chest, sniffing back tears that he just couldn't let Sam see. After a while of Sam pretending he couldn't see Gabriel's red eyes or shaking shoulders, their hands joined together and they took their time to find coffee. Partly out of reluctance, Gabriel told himself, because any beverage you buy from a cafeteria is legally required to be the foulest muck ever dredged out of mother Earth, but he knew it was also because Sam hadn't known how to act when he'd seen his new friend lying unconscious in a hospital bed, and his lover half mad beside it. It was because Sam would have to deal with Gabriel before he could deal with Pamela. The fact he was here even trying made Gabriel feel simultaneously so thankful and so lucky, but also even smaller, even more grub-like.

"I take it Castiel told you I was here."

"He really can't lie." Sam said, with a very small, testing smile. He squeezed his hand.

"I'm glad you're here. Thank you."

"It's ok. Of course I'm here for you, and Pamela." Sam smiled at him, warm and reassuring. Gabriel was glad to see the line for coffee was long. They didn't talk much, but then they didn't have to. The silence, whilst not comfortable, was better than forced conversation. It was enough that they were there for each other, each watching the other's movements, voicing the other's concerns…

It was once they'd received their cup of sludge (Gabriel took his with sugar and milk, Sam was either bold or stupid as he opted for straight, black engine oil) that Gabriel cleared his throat again.

"It's been years since I've been in a hospital. Last time I was in a hospital, I was getting my bones set, and… Raphael was being taken down to the morgue."

Sam blinked for a moment. He was within his rights; it was hardly the greatest opening line, but it did grab the attention of the audience.

"Oh." He said, simply. There was a pause, as both of them blew over their coffee, hoping it would reduce the temperature to something near consumable. After a while, Gabriel continued.

"That was my fault, too. I know I'm supposed to have gotten over it by now, but… I don't care what anyone says, I can't not feel like it was my fault. He was… he got beat to shit for defending me. My sexuality. Tried to take on more than he could handle. People get hurt when they know me."

"I'll risk it." Sam said, gripping Gabriel's arm. "Let's go see Pamela."

"No, Sam, I'm serious. I'm always going to think that way, and you need to know it."

"Ok." Sam nodded, returning Gabriel's stare with one of his own. "I understand. Hospitals bring out the worst in everyone, Gabe. Let's…"

"Sam. I'm a curse. You get that, right? And you want to put me near people you love? I'll mess up, I'll cause problems…"

"Gabe, stop it." Sam hugged his lover tight, pressing a kiss to his lips, brushing away his words. "We've been through worse. Trust me, if you were a curse… which, by the way, you're so not… we've seen off worse."

"Really?" Gabriel sounded disbelieving. Sam shrugged, a slight blush creeping over his cheeks.

"The last time I was in a hospital was because my Dad had pushed me down some stairs. And even then we stopped for ice cream on the way home. We've forgiven worse than you."

Gabriel blinked up at him, holding him tight.

"You never talk about your Dad…"

"You never talk about your brothers."

He had a point.

Pamela was awake, when they got back to her. She was a little disoriented, very shocked and claimed to have a headache that would explode lesser beings, but the doctors said she showed no signs of concussion or trauma. She seemed fine when she held her hand out and demanded Sam help her slap Gabriel across the face for being such a silly ass, and after the two friends had hugged and reassured each other that neither was going anywhere for a while. The doctors had said that they wanted to keep Pamela under observation for the night, and Gabriel had agreed to pick up a bag of her stuff. Sam had walked back to the apartment building with him.

Gabriel didn't mention his brother again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: You guys give me such nice reviews. You should add me on twitter. Look for me under the name of "vikkiethemimm". It'll be awesome.**

**(-*-)**

"And you're sure you're going to be alright?" Pamela, Sam and Castiel all shot Gabriel weary looks as they tried to herd him away from his apartment building.

"Yes, Gabriel." Castiel sighed. "I 'm sure I can look after Murdock and keep Pamela company for the day."

"Yeah, but I just…"

"It's one day." Pamela tutted. "We'll manage."

"Come on." Sam checked his watch, sighing irritably. "We're going to be late. That's if we make it at all; I can't believe Dean took the Impala…"

Gabriel glared at Sam, before hugging Pamela and smiling at Castiel.

"You're sure you're both going to be alright?"

"Yes."

"You'll remember your painkillers, Pam?"

"Yes."

"And you'll know Murdock needs…"

"Gabriel." Sam snapped, pressing the keys to the Thunderbird into his hand. "No more stalling."

With a sound he would forever deny was a whimper, Gabriel hugged Pamela again, waved at Castiel and slipped into the car.

"Have a nice dinner." Sam smiled over the roof of the car at them.

"Good luck." Pamela waved, as Gabriel started up the car.

"Happy thanksgiving." Castiel smiled. Gabriel scowled at him as he and Gabriel began the hour's drive.

(-*-)

Singer's Salvage and Auto-yard was not where Gabriel would have chosen to spend his Thanksgiving. Usually, if he wasn't on tour, Thanksgiving comprised of him taking over both his and Pamela's kitchens to create dinner for whatever family, friends and love interests they can wrangle into attending. It was a relatively casual, seat-of-your-pants type affair, but always comfortable. Driving an hour across state to an automotive graveyard was most decidedly not comfortable.

"I'm going to die, you do realise that?" Gabriel glanced at Sam, who looked equal parts nervous and excited in his gargantuan, puppy-zilla way. "This is clearly a manly man's territory. Hell, this is Deliverance."

"What's the matter?" Sam grinned. "In over your head?"

"Oh ha ha, how funny." Gabriel sighed. "I blame you for this, anyway. You should have a sign on you… 'must be this tall to ride'…"

"Please don't say anything like that in front of my family." Sam grimaced, peering out of the windshield as they pulled into the gates of the salvage yard.

"No shit. Seriously, though, you…" Gabriel paused, looking around. "Ok, did you just hear a banjo?"

"Shut up." Sam laughed, pressing a kiss to Gabriel's cheek. "You'll have fun. Trust me."

"I'm serious, I heard a banjo…"

"Gabriel. Trust me."

Gabriel glared at him for a moment, before nodding.

"Ok… let's get, if we're going."

"Love you."

"Yeah, you should." Gabriel said, not quite managing to keep a straight face. He kissed Sam's cheek, really wanting to stay in the car for a while longer. "Love you too."

As they got out of the car, Gabriel stared up at the porch. A Rottweiler, which probably came up to Gabriel's waist and had hair as black as coal, stared back at him.

"Grr." Said the Rottweiler which, Gabriel supposed, was about right.

When he had declared that he was going to die here, he hadn't hoped he'd actually be right. Sam just grinned and descended on the dog.

"Rumsfeld! Whosa good boy? Gabe, come say 'Hi'."

"Ha… seriously?"

"He's a big softie, don't be scared."

Gabriel approached Rumsfeld carefully, letting the dog smell him. He scratched the dog behind the ears, and the Rottweiler happily nuzzled into his hand. Now he got a closer look at the dog, he could see scars peeking through the thin layer of black hair.

"Wow, someone did a number on you, huh?"

"Yeah, there was a crazy girl a while back. Always trying to cause problems; had a real hate on for me and Dean. Took it out on him when she couldn't get to us."

"Poor guy." Gabriel scratched Rumsfeld behind the ears again, before stroking his back. "These Winchester boys just cause trouble, huh?"

"Hun, you have no idea." The new voice made both of them jump. A woman leant in the doorframe behind them, holding a dishcloth between her hands, watching both of them with a pleased smile.

"Hey!" Sam beamed, hugging her tight. Gabriel stood, awkwardly, waiting for Sam to introduce him.

"Hey yourself. You know, for someone who swings by to work here every week, you sure seem like a stranger." She pulled away, holding her hand out to Gabriel. "So you've got to be the Gabriel I've heard so little about. I'm Ellen, but I'm sure he's said just as little about me." She shot Sam a glare, and Gabriel was amazed to see the towering law student reduced to what looked like a scolded child. Ellen continued to smile at Gabriel.

"He's never been any good at communicating. I remember one time, when he was ten…"

"Hey!" Sam jumped in, pulling Gabriel away from Ellen and stepping between them. "Why don't we let him into the house before you start on the embarrassing stories?"

Ellen laughed, shooting a wink at Gabriel. Gabriel raised his eyebrows, before turning to Sam and affecting a stage whisper.

"I like her. I think we can teach each other a thing or two."

Sam glared at both of them as Ellen laughed. However, her expression fell as she saw the Thunderbird.

"Oh dear lord… you drove here in that?"

"Yeah." Sam sighed, waving her away and pulling Gabriel through the front door, into the house.

"You know Bobby's going to have a few choice words…"

"I know." Sam rolled his eyes, smiling at Gabriel. Gabriel smiled back, resigned to making the best of whatever mid-western insanity he was in for. Sam led him through to a sitting room-slash-library, in which sat Dean and an older, bearded man who Gabriel guessed had to be Bobby.

"Well, finally." Dean laughed as Sam entered, sitting further back in his chair. "What took you so long?"

"You left and you took the Impala." Sam scowled. "I'd guessed we'd all be going in one car."

"Yeah, no." Dean continued to laugh. "I'm not going to be holed up in a car with you and your boyfriend. No offence." The last part was directed to Gabriel, who shrugged off the comment. Bobby was watching him carefully.

"So you're Gabriel." Bobby pulled himself to his feet, and sidled over to Gabriel. Gabriel tried to think of something witty to say, but words failed him. He felt his fingers brush against Sam's, and was glad to feel Sam edge into the contact. Bobby sized him up for a moment, before extending his hand. "Bobby Singer. Call me Bobby. An' Sam, guess who got back from college a half hour ago?"

At his words, Sam let out a yell as he got the life hugged out of him by a small, blonde comet.

"Sam! Oh my God, college is so awesome! You have no idea…"

"Hi, Jo…" Sam coughed, trying to regain the ability to breathe. "Good to know…"

"Hey." Ellen, who had somehow snuck around to the kitchen, threw her dishcloth at Dean. "Grub's up. Come on through."

Somehow, the fact that they seemed to welcome him so easily made Gabriel feel even more out of place. They sat around the scrubbed wood kitchen table that looked slightly out of place, and Gabriel suspected it had been added to the kitchen especially for the meal. It was laden down with plates of turkey, roast potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, salad, condiments and gravy. Gabriel couldn't help wondering how Ellen had done it in the less-than-practically designed kitchen. It wasn't like she had a big oven.

Bobby took his seat at the head of the table, with Sam and Dean either side. Jo sat next to Dean, and Ellen sat at the other end, leaving Gabriel the seat next to Sam. He smiled awkwardly across the table at Jo.

"So, uh… college. What are you studying?"

"Medicine and psychology. I want to be a psychologist."

"Wow." Gabriel smirked. "Psychologist and a lawyer from the same family."

"Yeah." Bobby grunted. "Two out of three ain't bad."

"I'm not going back to college, Bobby." Dean growled, serving himself scoops of sweet potato. "It's not my scene."

Ellen sighed as she handed Gabriel the vegetables.

"Do we have to do this in front of company?"

"I'm just sayin', if you've got the smarts…"

"The salvage business is good enough for you, Bobby, it's good enough for me."

"You idjit, you think I…"

"Boys!"

Bobby and Dean both quieted under Ellen's glare, and Gabriel opened up new mental lists of notes about each of them. When he had asked Sam about topics to avoid, Sam had shrugged and said he couldn't think of anything special. Sam was clearly wrong.

"Gabriel." Ellen smiled, and Gabriel tried to hold back a smirk. "So, Sam says you're a stand up?"

"Yeah." Gabriel waved the comment aside, helping himself to potatoes. "It's not anything special."

"Stand-up?" Bobby grumbled. "How much do you make doing that?"  
>"Bobby!" Ellen and Sam both snapped. Gabriel smiled.<p>

"No, it's fine. You're right, actually; I make enough to keep myself alive and pay for rent, but it's a pretty high-commitment gig. I've been thinking lately I'm getting kind of tired of it all. I might give it a break; go back to one of the jobs I had before I went full time."

"What?" Sam looked at him, his brow furrowed. "You never told me."

"It's just an idle thought. I go through it after every tour." Gabriel smiled, soothing away Sam's concern. "It's the hangover. 'Never again', you know."

"So what would you do if you weren't a stand up?" Ellen smiled, taking the sweet potato from Jo.

"I don't know." Gabriel shrugged, uncharacteristically modest. Sam nudged him.

"He could be a chef. He's cordon bleu trained."

"Really?" Ellen blushed. Bobby and Dean laughed.

"Christ. Way to keep her calm, Sammy."

"Dude." Dean grinned across the table to Gabriel. "You're doomed. She won't let you eat in peace now."

"Oh hush." Ellen flustered, but didn't quite make eye contact as she handed Gabriel the sweet potato. "I just… I like to know my strengths, that's all."

Gabriel touched her hand with his as the bowl of sweet potato went between them.

"It's a good quality to have. Oh, are those sweet potatoes? I've heard all about these; no matter what I do to them, Sam says they're never as good as yours."

Leaving Ellen blushing slightly from the compliment, Gabriel grinned, scooped out several spoonfuls of the admittedly delicious looking orange mash, and handed the plate on to Sam, who gave him a despairing smirk.

"He was a writer, too. Used to write scripts for TV." Sam was oblivious to Gabriel's wide eyed, betrayed stare until it was too late. Before Sam could qualify his statement, Jo let out a gasp.

"Gabriel Di Angelo? You're _that_ Gabriel Di Angelo?"

"Yeah, no. It wasn't…"

"Oh my god! You used to write for Doctor Sexy!"

Gabriel buried his face in hands, as Ellen and Dean both started talking at once.

"We are such huge fans of Doctor Sexy! Oh my god, I can't believe…"

"Dude, you didn't think to tell me?"

"It's nothing." Gabriel tried to be polite, but was slowly burning red with embarrassment. "Seriously. I only wrote one character for one season. Just, you know, a day job."

"Who did you write?" Ellen was excited, and Bobby was looking at Gabriel like he was solely responsible for messing up an otherwise quiet evening. Gabriel was about ready to die face down in the damn sweet potatoes.

"Come on, Jo, you're the super fan." Dean grinned at his little sister. Jo flapped her hands at him, staring at Gabriel.

"I'm thinking… Oh!" She gasped, a wicked smile spreading slowly across her face. Gabriel shook his head, silently begging her not to out him. "You wrote for season four… you wrote the story with Doctor Piccolo's lesbian grandmother!"

Gabriel hunched smaller in his seat. Dean and Ellen gasped incredulously.

"What? That was you? Why?"

"What were you thinking? That storyline ruined Piccolo's character development! It didn't…"

"Look, I didn't come up with it, ok?" Gabriel snapped, before staring glumly at his plate. "I was… I don't know, following orders. I told them it was the most ridiculous idea ever, but they didn't listen. Now I'm forever linked to one of the stupidest plots in soap history."

Jo, Ellen and Dean exchanged slightly guilty looks for a moment, before Jo spoke up again.

"So, does that mean you wrote the scene where Doctor Wang and Doctor Piccolo both get to punch the mayoral candidate in the nuts?"

"… Yes."

"Oh god, that was the best scene in the whole season." Dean laughed, looking much less angry.

"That was brilliant!" Ellen patted his arm. "We were rolling about on the floor… when she got him with the clipboard…" She was laughing just thinking about it, which set Dean and Jo off. Deciding to make the best of a bad situation, Gabriel shrugged and began telling the story of how a similar thing had actually happened on set, between him, the actor who played Doctor Sexy, and a very irate young intern.

Bobby glared at Sam, as four of the six people present descended into behind-the-scenes soap trivia. Sam blinked, surprised by Bobby's scowl. Before he could say anything, though, Bobby pointed his fork at him.

"I blame you for this."

(-*-)

It took a half hour, but eventually the plates were clean again. Everyone sat back, willing to let their stomachs negotiate the sudden influx of food.

"Another great feast." Bobby and Ellen exchanged smiles, and Gabriel was, for a moment, touched by the ease of affection between the two.

"So who wants to go first?" Ellen smiled, before leaning in closer to Gabriel. "While everyone's waiting for dinner to settle, we tend to share what we're giving thanks for. It's kind of a tradition."

"Well…" Bobby sat back in his chair, loosening his belt a notch. "I gotta say I'm thankful for a wife who cooks food like that…"

"Kiss-ass." Smirked Dean, earning himself an amused half-glare from Bobby.

"And I'm thankful to see the three of you kids all starting to go out and fend for yourselves."

"Aww." Jo cooed, prompting laughter from everyone.

"I'm thankful for friends and family, and the fact that I'm going to be done with law school soon." Sam laughed, earning a punch on the arm from Bobby.

"Ah. In contrast…" Jo smiled, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. "I'm thankful I've gotten into college, and can't wait for my adult life which is stretching out in front of me. I'm also thankful I have finally met the joker responsible for Doctor Sexy season four, because it explains a lot."

Gabriel made a show of covering his eyes with his hands, as everyone laughed.

"Can I say, I'm thankful I'm no longer working for that damn show?"

"Well." Ellen rested a hand on Gabriel's arm, passing a matronly smile over both her son and her guest. "I'm thankful Sam's new squeeze is such a decent, experienced man, and frankly a big step up from his exes."

"Ellen!" Sam whined, causing Gabriel to laugh. Bobby chuckled too, poking Sam in the head.

"She's right though. What was that guy, the 'performance artist'?"

"Bobby…"

"And for the record…" Gabriel smiled at Ellen, feeling someone had to regain control of the conversation, even though seeing Sam get so embarrassed was quite hilarious. "I'm very glad that I have met Sam, and by extension all of you, and that no one has threatened me with a shotgun yet."

"Yet." Bobby repeated, fixing Gabriel with such a glare that may or may not have been a joke.

Everyone laughed at that, and it took Gabriel a moment to notice that Sam had gripped his hand, and was giving him a curious, contemplative look.

"I'm thankful I met you." He said. It was quiet, but everyone seemed to hear it, and the conversation stilled for a moment. "In the last few months, you've made me feel possibly the best I've felt in a long time. Thank you."

Gabriel wasn't really sure what to say. He cast a half embarrassed glance around the assembled company, and the bottom suddenly fell out of Sam's stomach. The sleepiness from the big dinner had caused him to lose track of his mouth, and now he was suddenly very aware of every argument and spat that had been caused by Gabriel being made uncomfortable. He recalled every time Gabriel had been startled by a sudden show of affection, and saw the familiar spark of confusion dance through Gabriel's eyes. He was about to try to move the conversation on, hoping they could pretend he'd never said anything, when Gabriel squeezed his hand back.

"Thanks, Sam. And… ditto."

Jo and Ellen both quietly "aww"ed at this, and Gabriel swore he even saw Bobby give a respectful nod, before turning his smile on Ellen. Dean cleared his throat.

"Uh… actually, I want to say something." He looked a little nervous, patches of red high on his cheeks as everyone's attention turned to him. His gaze fell to his plate. "I, uh, want to say I'm thankful that I finally kicked a very bad relationship to the curb. I was… with a guy who treated me bad, and I didn't have the confidence in myself to end it. But it was my friends and family who helped me through. And, uh, I suppose thanks to Gabriel for introducing me to his brother, who is helping me face up to my issues."

Everyone stared at him, wondering if the sexual orientation elephant that sat in the corner of the room playing solitaire was about to be addressed. Gabriel was pretty sure people were actually holding their breath. Dean looked up.

"And… that's it."

Masking their disappointment well, everyone smiled at him.

"Good on you, boy. I'm proud."

"It takes a big man to admit he's wrong."

"See, Dean, psychology does work…"

"Alright." Ellen stood, gathering up plates. "Jo, if you want to help me clear the plates away, we can get on with the big finale."

"Well alright. Boys, let's get the pit fired up." Bobby stood, his eyes shining with the sort of primitive mischief that was shared by Sam and Dean, and put Gabriel on edge.

"The pit?"

The pit, it turned out, was a square barbecue pit out the back of the house, in front of a small porch. While Jo and Ellen cleaned the table, Bobby, Dean and Sam started to fire it up. Gabriel was content to stand back and watch, as they got the flames roaring in the fast dwindling light.

"Sam, you want to go grab 'em out of the fridge?"

"On it." Sam grinned, smiling at Gabriel as he walked past him into the house. As soon as the door closed, Bobby motioned Gabriel closer. It was what he had been dreading all evening, but he tried not to appear too reluctant as he approached the fire pit.

"Dean." Bobby cleared his throat, giving his other son a significant glance. Dean nodded, and wandered off further into the auto yard.

"So, Gabriel. How are you and Sam working out?"

"We're good… We've got our issues but who doesn't." Gabriel chuckled a little, out of nothing but sheer awkwardness.

"Yeah, well." Bobby stoked the fire a little more, before looking at Gabriel again, sizing him up. "Sam ever tell you about his dad?"

"A few things." Gabriel shrugged. "It's… he doesn't like to get into it, I guess."

"Sounds about right." Bobby nodded. "He's had a harsh life, but he's a good kid. Something of a bleeding heart at times."

"I'd noticed." Gabriel agreed, watching the older man grumble into his beard. Perhaps he wasn't the only one made uncomfortable by the situation. "He's… compassionate."

"That's one word for it… point is; the last thing he needs right now is some joker tearing his heart out for a laugh."

Gabriel blinked, feeling a little offended.

"What are you…"

"I can see right through you. From what Sam's told me, and from what I've seen tonight, I'm pretty sure I've got your handle. You've seen just as much shit as the rest of us, but you deal by not taking any of it seriously." Bobby shot him a stern glare. "An' I'm telling you now, if there's one thing you should be taking serious, it's Sam. Understand?"

Gabriel nodded.

Bobby nodded back.

Sam carried out a tray full of glinting, foil-wrapped packages, followed by Ellen and Jo, their laughter cutting thought the evening air.


	15. Chapter 15

"The Finale" of Thanksgiving dinner was a less than traditional dessert. When Gabriel thought Thanksgiving, he would usually suggest pumpkin pies, maybe ice cream or some kind of pudding. But he would not think of barbecued bananas.

The recipe, Ellen explained to him, was simple enough. Slice open a banana, in its skin, and fill it with chocolate, brown sugar and rum, varying the amounts to personal preference. Then wrap 'em in foil and fling 'em on the fire pit for a while, until the sugar became kind of syrupy, and the chocolate melted into the fruit.

Gabriel thought they were heaven.

Sam smirked at him as he scooped out the sugary, soft flesh from the skin.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"I'm leaving you." He pointed at the banana with his spoon. "I'm sorry, but until you can make yourself taste like this, it wouldn't be fair on either of us."

They were sat on the porch, watching Bobby and Dean, lit by the flames of the fire pit as evening drew in around them. Ellen and Jo, who were sat on the taller step behind them, laughed.

"You're something of a sweet tooth, Gabriel?"

Gabriel, who had just crammed another spoonful of banana into his mouth, nudged Sam and made a vague waving gesture. Sam laughed, getting the impression that he was being given the job of talking for his sugar-obsessed boyfriend.

"That's an understatement. You should see how he takes his coffee."

Gabriel pulled a face that made Sam laugh even more.

"I'm amazed you don't have diabetes. Hell, you don't even have cavities. What did you do, sell your soul to the god of dentistry?"

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, in a "wouldn't you like to know" smile, before returning to his dessert. Ellen giggled.

"You two are priceless."

Gabriel shot her a wink.

"So, now we've had you here for such a feast…"

"Mm." Gabriel managed, putting his hand over his heart and gazing intently at Ellen. Ellen laughed, looking to Sam.

"He thinks it was a very nice meal." Sam supplied, earning himself a despairing eye roll. The "no shit" was implied.

"Thank you." Ellen nodded, smiling. "So are we going to see you return the favour any time soon?"

Gabriel swallowed, choked, and spluttered. Once he'd cleared his throat, he flashed an embarrassed smile at Ellen and Jo, and definitely didn't look at Sam. Sam blinked.

"Uh… Gabriel's place is kind of small, I doubt… we probably wouldn't all fit."

"Yeah." Gabriel croaked, smiling gladly at Sam. "It'd… it'd take some serious planning. Maybe I'll manage to sort it all out, after Christmas."

"Oh." Ellen nodded, smiling to herself at the nervous glances between them. "That makes sense."

"Are you sure you aren't going to stay?" Jo pouted, nudging Sam's arm. "I never get to see you."

"No, it'd be too much hassle." Sam shook his head. "It's easier if we just drive back tonight."

"Wait…" Dean broke away from his conversation with Bobby, staring at Sam. "Didn't you come here in Gabriel's car? You want to drive that thing home? On a November night?"

"How do you know what I drive?" Gabriel seemed a little offended. Yes, his car was a crap-mobile, but it was his crap-mobile and it had served him well. Mostly. Well, it had served him.

"I've seen you picking up Sam in it. And I'm amazed Sam continues to willingly get in it."

"It's not that bad, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. "It's just… older. And it hasn't had a tune up in a while. It's only broken down once in all the times I've been in it."

"Stop trying to help." Gabriel advised.

"What's he driving?" Bobby poked the embers of the flame pit one last time.

"Thunderbird." Dean shot Bobby meaningful mechanic looks. "But it's more rust than car."

"Hey…" Gabriel wasn't sure why he felt so personally affronted, but he did. Jo rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling.

"Don't bother. They're already in mechanic mode. In ten minutes, they'll be doing that suck-air-in-through-their-teeth thing. It's best to just go with it; you'll get a free tune up if nothing else."

Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by Sam.

"Look, it could maybe do with a tune up, but the body work isn't bad at all. Not like we could do it here anyway. Gabriel, where are your keys?"

"Um…" Dazed, he handed his keys over, as the three men went off to tame and train Gabriel's apparently unsatisfactory Thunderbird. Ellen grinned at him.

"C'mon, this is going to be fun."

Before he really knew what was happening, Gabriel had moved to the front of the house, and was watching Bobby, Sam and Dean stare down at the engine of his Thunderbird, while he, Jo and Ellen watched. Jo had actually made popcorn.

"This thing's a wreck." Bobby sounded almost like he pitied the car, pointing down at the engine. "Sam, you actually got in this thing?"

"I know, right?" Dean shot Sam a glare. Sam just stared down at the engine.

"Yeah well, I'd never seen under the hood before. Sure explains most of the handling problems."

Ellen nudged Gabriel, before clearing her throat and calling over to them.

"Well are you gonna stand there talking about it or are you ladies gonna do something?"

"Calm down, woman." Bobby snapped back, causing Ellen and Jo to giggle. Gabriel just watched the surreal show.

"We could probably fix 'er up." Dean mumbled, glancing at Bobby and Sam. Sam nodded.

"It's not like it's a bad car. It'd be worth it, if we could do it right."

Bobby thought for a moment.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"You've got tomorrow off, right?"

"I've got a shift at the bar, but that's not 'til six. Why?"

"I wouldn't feel right letting you or your boyfriend drive around in this time bomb. You boys are going to have to stay the night so we can breathe some life into this thing."

Jo and Ellen cheered. Bobby hitched up his jeans, and scratched at his beard.

"Dean, go get my tool kit. Jo, you and Sam can go find some useable parts; there's not much here that couldn't do with an upgrade. Ellen, you'll want to make some coffee and set up the spare room. Gabriel?"

"Me?"

Bobby turned to look at Gabriel, who seemed utterly bewildered. He heaved a sigh.

"I'm going to take a leap and guess you're none too good with cars?"

"I can drive them…"

"Help Ellen."

Given their marching orders, everyone sprung into action. Ellen flashed a kindly smile at Gabriel.

"Hun, you're about to see my boys in their element. Once they catch a whiff of motor oil, they're gone. Jo's just the same, which means you and I can keep each other company." She smiled, linking arms with him as she steered him through to the kitchen.

"Great…" He smiled, nervously. "But, so you're not repeating, I think you should know that Bobby's already done the "what re your intentions" veiled threat."

"Ah." She smiled. "I'm sure I can come up with something."

(-*-)

The kettle boiled behind them, as Ellen and Gabriel scoured the cupboards to find enough mugs.

"So how did you and Sam meet?" Ellen was sly, Gabriel could tell, in that motherly way. Amiable, sure, but prepared to fight should anything threaten her family. She was a worth foe.

"In the bar Sam works at." Gabriel admitted, wishing it didn't sound so sleazy. "It was the last stop on our tour, and when I finished my set he brought me a drink. We got to talking and he gave me his phone number."

"Really?" She seemed a little surprised by this, and Gabriel couldn't blame her. "Sam made the first move?"

"Yeah." Gabriel chuckled. "I later found out it was an exercise in getting out of his comfort zone."

"Hm." Ellen acknowledged, setting up a row of mismatched mugs. "How do you take it, sweetheart?"

"Two sugars, white."

"So." She scooped sugar into the mug. "I can imagine you're not too keen on that."

"What?"

"Well, I know I'd be worried if I got picked up as "an exercise" in anything. See, that's one of Sam's little problems, is sometimes he doesn't see how what he says and does relates to other people. He always means well, of course, but he just talks and doesn't think."

Gabriel blinked at her, for a moment.

"Has Sam been telling you about me?"  
>"No." She met his gaze with unfaltering honesty. "Should he?"<p>

Gabriel looked away, wondering if he and Sam didn't share a propensity for talking without thinking.

"No. It's nothing."

"Ok then."

The kettle clicked off, and Ellen poured out the mugs of coffee.

"You know, Bobby and I first met in a bar."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was working there, and he pulled in with a friend of his. His friend got drunk and started causing trouble, when I said he'd had enough, he started threatening me… got kinda rough, actually. Bobby stepped in, told him he was being an ass and told him to wait outside. Bobby paid for his friend's damages, apologised and left. Two days later he was back again, said he didn't feel like he'd apologised enough. I asked if he wanted to stick around since my shift was over, and we got to talking."

"That's a sweet story." Gabriel smiled, loading the mugs of coffee onto a tray.

"It doesn't matter how you meet someone." She said, eyes locking with his. "First impressions make an impact, but they aren't all that matters. What matters is the time you spend together."

"Thanks." Gabriel smiled.

"You don't believe me?"

"Well… it's just, in my line of work, you have to tell the audience all they need to know about you in one sentence. I'd say they're important."

"Yeah, and I suppose that's true." She shrugged. "But then, the rest of the act's kind of important too, right?"

Gabriel conceded, slightly surprised as Ellen patted his shoulder.

"If you still need convincing, it might help if I tell you that Bobby's "friend" was John Winchester. Come on; let's get those boys their coffee."

(-*-)

Sam and Jo wandered through the auto-yard, on the lookout for likely donors.

"I like him." Jo said, by way of breaking the silence.

"Um… thanks?"

"No, Sam, I mean it. Don't end this one, ok?"

"Jo…"

"No, Sam." She grabbed his arm, staring up at him. "He's good for you. You end up getting scared of things that are good for you."

"I don't!"

"Sam. You want to back out of being a lawyer, because you think it's too much pressure to live up to. You could have gotten much better jobs than the ones you did. And… Jess…"

Sam pulled his arm away, and carried on walking. Jo ran after him.

"Sam, please… I just meant that I like him. Forget the rest of it." She stood in front of him, pulling the adoring little sister pout, and rendering Sam's discomfort irrelevant.

"Fine." He smiled, hugging her.

"He's funny, and smart, and he tries to act like he's all cool and detached, but he's a good guy. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Sam smiled into her hair, hugging her tight.

"Just a shame he drives a crud-wagon."

Sam laughed, as they continued their examination of the donor yard.

"So how's college?"

(-*-)

Gabriel and Ellen sat on the front porch, watching Bobby and the Winchesters toil into the evening. Jo served as ambassador between groups, sometimes summoned as an extra pair of hands, sometimes called to tell a particular story or answer a question.

"You know what I hate?" Gabriel warmed his hands against his coffee mug, smiling at Ellen through the steam. "I'm so glad none of you have done it. Whenever you tell someone you're a stand up comic, they instantly say "tell me a joke, then". Like you have to prove yourself."

"Well, I suppose it's a novelty thing."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't do it to anyone else. "I'm a builder"; "oh really? Go do my extension". Or, "I'm an actor." "You don't say. Do the second act of Hamlet"… "I'm a brain surgeon"; "ooh, go on, cut me open, give it a go"."

Ellen laughed. Looking up as Bobby shrugged off his jacket.

"Take it off!" She giggled. Bobby raised an eyebrow, and wandered over to them.

"You been getting my wife drunk?"

"No, sir, she was like this when I got here."

Bobby smirked a little, giving her his jacket.

"Isn't there something else you two want to be doing?"

"Rather than watching our men be manly?" Ellen folded Bobby's jacket against herself, smiling up at him. "Couldn't think of a better way to spend an evening, could you?"

Gabriel blinked, glancing up at Bobby.

"I don't think I can answer that question without offending someone."

Bobby smirked, pressing quick kiss to Ellen's cheek before returning to the car. Gabriel watched the exchange with slight awe in his eyes.

"How do you do it?"

Ellen thought, pursing her lips as she went through her years of experience.

"It takes practice. We've all got our own, personal demons. We've all got history. It's about knowing that, and accepting it, and still wanting them there. But the other part of it is letting them know your demons, and letting them accept it, and letting them want you there."

"It's a game of give and take, huh?" Gabriel smiled. Ellen smiled back at him.

"Something like it. I'll leave you with your thoughts. I've got to make you and Sam up a room."

"Need some help?"

"No, I've got it."

Gabriel sat back, watching Dean and Sam laugh as they threw oily rags at each other. For once he just let himself think.

(-*-)

By the time Sam fell into bed next to Gabriel, the sky was utterly, inky black. The car had been fixed, Pamela and Castiel had been informed of their continued absence, and Sam had (thankfully) showered. Gabriel smirked, as Sam summoned the monumental energy needed to pull himself over onto his side.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted. But your car is going to run like a dream by lunchtime tomorrow."

"Ooh, impressive." Gabriel grinned, as he wriggled into Sam's arms. They kept their voices low, hearing the old house creak and settle around them, and the shower gush as Dean was still trying to clean the layer of grime off himself. Gabriel pressed two quick kisses to Sam's lips, still feeling like he had to double check how happy being with Sam made him.

"What about you? It hasn't been too weird, has it?" For a moment, Sam struggled to keep himself awake enough to give Gabriel a serious, concerned look. Gabriel smirked.

"It's been fun. I mean… there's been a couple of moments of awkwardness, but no more than can be expected." He hugged himself tighter to his lover, the warmth of skin against skin comforting and relaxing. "Your family love you, Sam. A lot. And I can't help but respect them for that. My family… they didn't want me around. And the few who did, Raphael, Castiel, Balthazar… I let them down. Hurt them. And Raphael died before I could make it up to him, and I don't think I've ever forgiven myself for that. Which… maybe that's why I freak out. Push everyone away, then I can't hurt them. Does that make sense?"

Sam didn't say anything, and for a horrible moment, Gabriel thought he might have said the wrong thing, but then Sam hugged him tight and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Yes, it makes sense. I mean, it's wrong, but it makes sense. Gabriel, you're awesome, and I love you, and I won't let you push me away."

"Thanks." Gabriel whispered, feeling so many different emotions pull his heart in so many different ways that he found it easier to bury his face in Sam's shoulder and let sleep claim him. He wouldn't let Sam let him push him away. Or something… it had been a long day.


	16. Chapter 16

Gabriel sighed and stretched out, waggling his fingers as he did so. He was going to have to start going to sleep earlier; he was struggling to wake up. He was not liking this 'getting old' malarkey'. Something was wrong with the scenario he had woken in, and he frowned as he tried to place exactly what it was.

He was in a double bed. He was in Sam's double bed, at his parents' house. It was the morning after Thanksgiving; Gabriel had spent the night once Bobby, Sam and Dean had decided that his car was unworthy of road travel. He knew that. It was a little disconcerting, but it didn't explain the firm sense that something was wrong. He yawned and stretched again, before pinpointing exactly what had gone awry.

He could _stretch_. There was _space._

Meaning that his colossus of a lover wasn't hogging most of the bed.

Gabriel pushed himself so he was sitting up on his elbows. Normally, if Sam was the first to wake, he'd annoy Gabriel into the world of the waking as well, just out of boredom and a need for attention. And yet here he was, with no Sam, and the still present sense of wrongness. He got out of bed and stumbled into his clothes from yesterday, hoping that he hadn't made a dick of himself by sleeping in. He had a feeling that would pretty much cement his foppish city-boy image amongst the hardworking mid-westeners.

As he wandered downstairs, he realised that the house was almost completely still. If he had slept in, it had been long enough for everyone to leave…

He looked into the kitchen, and saw Dean making coffee. He looked mildly surprised to see Gabriel awake.

"Hey… Coffee?"

"Sure. What time is it?"

"Half four."

"In the morning?" Gabriel heaved a sigh, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I blame your brother for my waking far too early. Where is he, anyway?"

"Went out for a run." Dean sighed. Gabriel got the impression that was supposed to mean something rather serious.

"Do you think he's worried about something?"

"Either that or he's training for the Olympics and just hasn't told us yet."

Gabriel nodded.

"Well I have no idea why I'm awake. Why are you up?"

"My sleep pattern's all kinds of messed up. I'm awake, so I'm making coffee and pancakes."

"I whole-heartedly approve." Gabriel nodded, taking the mug of coffee Dean offered him.

"Sam hasn't said anything to you has he? About his grades or anything?"

Gabriel scanned his memory, shaking his head.

"No. But then I've observed that, when it comes to sharing, he can't quite practice what he preaches."

"Really?" Dean laughed, moving to the fridge. "He does that to you too?"

"Yeah. But Castiel would be the first to tell you I've always needed someone to slap me upside the head and tell me to talk about it."

"I feel your pain." Dean muttered, as he grabbed a bag of flour out of a cupboard.

"How's that going, by the way?" Gabriel said, between sips at his coffee. "You and Castiel?"

Dean froze slightly.

"I'm… I haven't made an appointment in a while."

"Oh? How come?"

"Just…" Dean shook his head, dismissing it. Gabriel stared at him, one raised eyebrow implying that he could stay there all day if he had to. Dean sighed.

"After the thing in the restaurant, I don't think I need a counsellor. I… I'd like to hang out with him as a friend, but it would be too weird. Awkward."

"Why?"

"We've both…" Dean flushed bright red. "The same guy."

"And?" Gabriel snorted, shaking his head. "If I let things like that hold me back, I'd have even fewer friends than I do now… And yes, that does make me sound like a slut."

"I don't know. I just… Whatever. He's a professional anyway, he doesn't want to pal around with an ex-client or whatever."

Gabriel had to hold back the overwhelming urge to coo and pinch Dean's cheek. He settled for a very mild smirk.

"He would value your friendship. Trust me. Just go up to his office, ask him to hang out… take him to another hockey game, he said he loved that."

"Really?" Dean put his thumb through the egg he had just picked up. Gabriel bit back laughter.

"Yes, really. I think you and he would be good friends… you need any help with the pancakes?"

"Nah, I got it." Dean grinned. "It's the one thing I can do in the kitchen."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and sipped his coffee.

"That's one more thing than Castiel…"

(-*-)

By the time Sam returned, Dean and Gabriel were working their way through a stack of pancakes each, and laughing about something. They stopped very quickly when Sam entered though, causing him to instantly be very suspicious.

"Hey, stranger." Gabriel grinned. "Where did you get to?"

"Pancakes in the oven." Dean grumbled, by way of greeting. Sam leant over and pressed a kiss to Gabriel's cheek, before retrieving his pancakes.

"So… you two have been talking. That's… slightly terrifying."

"Nothing bad." Dean grinned at him. "Just, y'know, big brother stuff."

"Mm." Gabriel chuckled. "Trading stories."

"Oh god." Sam dropped his plate on the table and stood up straight. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing." Gabriel and Dean both insisted, completely failing to look innocent. They both watched Sam as he warily sat between them, and began to eat his pancakes. Gabriel grinned across the table at Dean.

"So you were saying?"

"Oh, right. So, Sam's at baseball camp, age fourteen, and he doesn't know that I'm sharing a cabin with him. Or, he didn't know, until I walk in on…"

"The hell, Dean?" Sam managed to choke, between shuddering gasps. Gabriel made no effort to hold back his laughter. "Oh my god, you didn't actually tell him that, did you?"

"Well clearly not, since you just interrupted me. Douche."

"Don't worry, Sam." Gabriel patted Sam's arm, soothingly. "Whatever that story was, it can't have been worse than the story about your "secret" Dungeons and Dragons phase."

"What?" Sam turned horrified eyes on Gabriel. Gabriel laughed even harder.

"Don't worry, I think it's adorable."

"Yeah… well… Dean used to watch Star Trek!"

"Dude!"

"What in the hell is going on down here?" Bobby plodded down the stairs, wrapped in a bathrobe that had seen better days, with a pair of pyjama pants that cried out to be worn with a big pair of grizzly bear slippers.

"Shit, Bobby, did we wake you?" Dean smiled guiltily. "We were just embarrassing Sam."

"Bobby, they're teaming up…"

"Kid, if there's one person in this house big enough to take care of his self, it's you." Bobby yawned, and poured some coffee out of the pot, before noticing the pancakes. "None for anyone else? Nice, Dean."

"Calm down, old man, I'll make you some, and you can take over the embarrassing stories."

Bobby thought for a moment.

"There was that time when he was seven when he fell in love with Peter Pan."

Boy had Gabriel chosen the wrong moment to sip his coffee.

Bobby smirked, ignoring Sam's protests as he proceeded to tell Gabriel how, for a period of months, Sam had been utterly in love with every aspect of Peter Pan, from the book and the play to the cartoon of the ginger kid in the green tights. Bobby said they'd known from that moment that Sam was gay, and when he'd eventually come out it was kind of a "no shit" moment.

Sam looked like he was about ready to die as Dean and Bobby casually relayed the more embarrassing details of his childhood, but Gabriel noticed that they mentioned John in the same way they mentioned "uncle Rufus". A kind of nostalgia, distant and fleeting, as though the ties had long since been cut and cleaned away. They'd accepted and moved on, but Gabriel still got the impression that John's name wasn't all that welcome. From the few things he'd heard, he'd managed to get a rough idea why.

By the time Jo and Ellen descended, Sam was about ready to beg someone to change the subject.

"Did anyone tell the story about his first kiss?" Jo beamed, as Dean dropped a plateful of pancakes in front of her.

"No." Gabriel sat forward, returning her excited grin. "Please, go on."

"It was so cute." Ellen sighed wistfully, earning a tired scowl from Sam.

"He was ten years old, and it was on Dean's birthday. Dean was turning fourteen so we covered the auto-yard in foam wrapping…"

"What's all this 'we'?" Bobby chuckled. "If I recall, you were eight at the time…"

"I helped." Jo sniffed. "Anyway, the whole yard was basically child-proofed and the kids Dean invited over all played this massive game of lazer-tag."

"Best birthday ever." Dean grinned, eyes shining. Sam stood from the table and left, glaring at the floor.

"But this one kid had to bring his little brother along, and he was ten and couldn't play with everyone else because he was asthmatic, so he sat out with me. Then Sam falls over in the tag course, and gets this huge cut all down his leg. And this other kid sees it, and because we didn't know where Mom and Bobby were, the other kid says "don't worry, I know first aid". And he bandages Sam up, and they're talking about whatever geeky things they were both into, and I'm told to run and find some adults. So I do, and when I come back with Mom, Sam's there with his jeans hitched up to his knee and this massive bandage on it, and they're kissing."

"It was so adorable." Ellen smiled. "Of course, that was before the other kid's bitch of a mother turned up and started making snotty comments that I did not appreciate."

"Yeah…" Jo grinned. "She was all 'oh, you're corrupting my baby' and then Mom was like 'POW!' and she punched her in the face."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, and Ellen shrugged, unashamed. Dean laughed to himself.

"Best birthday ever."

Gabriel glanced around, registering for the first time that Sam had excused himself. He cleared his throat and stood.

"I better check he's not about to commit Seppuku."

Gabriel left, into the back yard. Dean frowned.

"Whats Seppookoo?"

"Seppuku, you idjit. It's Japanese. What about some more pancakes?"

(-*-)

"Sam!"

It had almost been a clean getaway. He was almost out of the salvage yard… he could probably pretend he hadn't heard, and just run straight on…

"Sam, don't start running. You know I couldn't chase you, and you wouldn't want my having a heart attack on your conscience."

Sam sighed at turned around, glaring at Gabriel.

"It's not funny."

"What?"

"That." He pointed at the kitchen, earning a confused smile from Gabriel. He sighed, before storming off towards the fence around the salvage yard. "Just forget it."

"No, Sam…" Gabriel ran after him, grabbing his arm. Sam shrugged him off. "Sam…"

"Forget it."

"Hey!" Gabriel grabbed his arm again, pulling him around so that he could see his embarrassed face. "What is your problem? I thought you wanted this."

Sam glared at him. Gabriel glared right back, crossing his eyes.

"I'm here enjoying myself and getting on with your family. What's the problem?"

"It's… You're…" Sam cast around, before becoming very interested in his feet. "I don't like you all laughing at me."

"Oh, Sam… Sam…" He smoothed his hand over Sam's cheek, smiling up at him. "You're a complete tool." Sam scowled at him. Gabriel just carried on smirking, lightly slapping Sam's cheek. "Every one of those stories was totally adorable. I wasn't laughing at you; I was laughing because the image of you as a cute little kid is hilarious."

He pulled Sam down so their foreheads were resting together, and Sam was forced to stare straight into his eyes.

"I thought sharing embarrassing stories about childhood was part and parcel of the whole 'boyfriend' thing." He gasped, managing to look incredulous for about two seconds. "You mean TV lied to me?"

Sam laughed, his eyes softening as he finally managed to smile.

"Did you just call yourself my boyfriend?"

"I guess I did." Gabriel grinned, feigning weariness. "A person can only defy convention for so long."

"Oh, you're so hard done by." Sam laughed, pulling Gabriel into a hug. "But you see my point? It's not like I get to hear your embarrassing childhood."

"You'd need to ask Pam and Castiel about that. They can only remember from about age ten onwards, but I was in a drama school. There's no shortage of embarrassing stories. At one point I decided to change my name to Loki; wouldn't answer to anything else for about two years."

Sam laughed, pressing a kiss to Gabriel's lips.

"I can't wait to hear about that."

Gabriel kissed back, not able to resist sliding his tongue across Sam's lips. Sam smiled.

"Given that you were afraid to hold my hand yesterday, I'm going to guess you've gotten more comfortable around my family."

"Could be." Gabriel grinned, his eyes flashing as he shared Sam's breath. "Or it could be that I'm ever-so-slightly desperate to jump you."

Sam laughed. Gabriel shrugged.

"What can I say? Between oil-covered Mechanic Sam, Athletic Sam and Domestic Sam, you're driving me a little bit crazy."

"We might have to wait 'til we get home for that." Then he paused, biting his lip. "The last time I did anything more exciting than kissing here, I was fifteen and Jo spied on me. There's not much by way of privacy here."

Gabriel went to speak, but his attention was caught by something behind Sam.

"I'm going to guess that old habits die hard."

"Seriously?"

"About ten feet behind you. On your left."

Sam grinned, before turning his head slightly, and raising his voice.

"I guess we'll leave about ten; that way I have time to kill my nosey sister."

"Get a room!" Jo called out, before quickly retreating back to the house. Gabriel laughed, hugging himself against Sam.

"You're going to have to finish fixing up my car so I can drive you some place more private."

"I guess I'll have to." Sam agreed, pulling Gabriel close. "But we can stay here for a little while." They kissed, holding each other tight, while Jo ran back to tell Ellen everything she'd overheard. Sam and Gabriel could not care less.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam grinned as Gabriel drove him back to town, Bobby and Ellen's praises still ringing in his ears. There had been a lot of "come back soon"s and "we should do this again"s, and Jo had even gone so far as to treat Gabriel to one of her bone-crushing hugs. Acceptance, it seemed, had never been an issue. Gabriel, on the other hand, was being as contradictory and cryptic as ever.

"Admit it." He smiled. "You liked them, you had fun. Admit it!"

"Eh." Gabriel shrugged, trying to remain po-faced. "They weren't unlikeable."

"Oh come on." Sam poked him, causing him to roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to drive here, Sam."

"Just admit it and I'll quit bugging you. You liked it."

"Liked what?"

"The whole domestic, family boyfriend bit. You cared what my family thought about you, and you liked them."

"Yes, I liked them." Gabriel shot him a glance as if he wondered whether Sam had gone crazy. "They're nice people. Why wouldn't I like them?"

"You know what I mean." Sam smirked. "You liked doing the meet-the-parents thing. Being a boyfriend."

"No…"

"Yes."

"Should I drop you off? You've got a few hours before you're needed at the bar, right?"  
>"Yeah." Sam smirked, leaning over and kissing the crook of Gabriel's neck. He was only encouraged when he heard Gabriel exhale a small puff of laughter.<p>

"Or would you rather I just drove us straight off the road?"

"I think we could hang out some more, but until you admit that you loved meeting my family and doing the whole domestic bit, I'm going to be purposefully insufferable."

"Oh really?" Gabriel laughed, pulling up to a stop outside his apartment building. "And that will be different from normal because..?"

"Because I'll drive you crazy teasing." Sam grinned. Gabriel laughed.

"Kid, you're built like a brick wall. You can do a lot, but I don't think "teasing" is in your skill-set."

"We'll see." Sam grinned, leaning back in. He pressed kisses along Gabriel's jaw, his hand tracing a line up the inside of Gabriel's thigh. He brought his lips up to Gabriel's ear, nipping the soft skin there before proceeding to whisper a stream of the filthiest talk Gabriel had heard in a long time. Gabriel blinked, stunned, and before he could do much else, Sam had removed his hand from Gabriel's crotch and patted his cheek, leaving the car quickly. Gabriel sat in stunned silence for a moment, before running after Sam.

"That is foul play, Winchester, and I will not stand for it."

"So what are you going to do?" Sam beamed, as Gabriel lead the way to his apartment. Gabriel heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Fine. If you must know, yes, I enjoyed meeting your family and finding out about your life before it was made all the better by having me in it. And yes, I suppose it was nice to see what a functional family looks like. But, that wasn't my favourite part." He reached his apartment door, opening it to let them both in. He shut the door again, before grabbing Sam's hands and leaning up against the back of it, pulling Sam closer. Sam, eyebrows raised and smile firmly in place, was happy to play along.

"What was your favourite part?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Promise."

"It was… it was doing something that told each other, and told everyone else, that we're doing this. That it's not just some amusement. It's proper, full-time, taking it seriously. And that scares me a little, but I'm willing to make the jump if you are."  
>"I think I am." Sam smiled, his eyes lidded as he stood as close to Gabriel as he could, wrapping the smaller man up in his arms. Gabriel looked up at him, and the sincerity and warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced with the more customary wicked smirk.<p>

"So are you going to follow through on any of that filth you uttered in the car, or was it just empty words?"

Sam grinned, and led Gabriel through to the bedroom. God almighty was Gabriel glad. He was glad of Sam, of Sam's freaking saintly family. They'd been so kind, so understanding, and so ready to agree that Gabriel was welcome as long as Sam was happy. He was glad of his own friends, too, because without Pam and Castiel hitting him over the head and telling him to get his ass in gear, he'd have never gotten to this point. And, as he and Sam tumbled onto the bed together, already stripping each other of unnecessary layers, he was very, very glad he'd asked Castiel to look after Murdock.

(-*-)

Gabriel's apartment resounded with laughter, Pamela accepting the refilled wine glass Sam pressed into her hands, before gripping his hand in hers. Gabriel had just as quickly claimed the other arm for his own as they sprawled over the couch, leaving Castiel with the ottoman on the other side of the coffee table. Pamela giggled.

"But if you want really embarrassing, we should talk about the whole rigmarole with Svad."

"Svad?" Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel. Gabriel cringed, burying his face in Sam's shoulder slightly.

"I really wish I hadn't started this…"

"No, it's fun!" Pamela insisted. "Svad was this huge Norwegian guy, and he basically turned Gabriel into his prison bitch. He had him pretending to be a woman and everything."

"Not pretending…" Gabriel protested. "Just… dressing like one."

"And that is a story I do not wish to hear." Castiel grumbled, as he downed what remained of his wine before instantly filling it again. Gabriel grinned at him.

"Oh come on, this is brotherly bonding. Sam and Dean know all this stuff about each other…"

"Yeah, but in fairness, it's not like I want to know the ins and outs of Dean's love-life."

Castiel made a noise that sounded half between a cough and a whimper, causing Gabriel to look at him. He wasn't drunk, not quite, but he was nearly there. Although, he thought, that was probably true for all of them.

"Castiel?"

"Dean…" Castiel muttered, before shooting a sidelong glance at Sam. "It's nothing."

"What?" Sam struggled to sit up a little more, against Gabriel's weight. "I thought you and Dean were friends now. He said about making your hockey games a regular thing."

"Yes." Castiel shrugged, eyes on the floor. "It's nothing."

"Castiel." Gabriel sat up, his bossy big brother tone firmly in place. "Is this to do with the thing we talked about before thanksgiving?" He stared at Castiel, hoping he wouldn't have to add, 'the thing where you want to jump Sam's brother'. Ideally, Sam would cotton on under his own academic steam. But for a genius, he wasn't always that smart.

Castiel glared at the floor.

"Castiel?"

"Yes."

"Has something new happened?" Pamela bounced in her seat at the prospect of gossip. "Do tell."

Castiel shot another awkward, wary glare at Sam, before silently imploring to Gabriel. Gabriel shrugged.

"Up to you, bro. He'll find out one way or another, eventually."

Sam scowled, and began poking Gabriel in the ribs.

"What? What is going on?"

Castiel sighed.

"Dean's a confusing man. I had hoped that, once he was no longer a client… being no longer bound by professionalism… I had hoped to… get to know him better." Castiel shot another glance at Sam here, and Pamela muttered something into her wine.

"But?" Gabriel watched him carefully. Castiel had never been one to take rejection well.

"But he doesn't… sometimes he seems like he reciprocates, and sometimes he seems like he doesn't want to know, and I don't know where I stand with him. It's just gotten more and more confusing."

Sighing, Gabriel held out his hand to Castiel. Castiel took it, briefly, casting a mournful, less-than-sober gaze up at his brother. Gabriel smiled, reassuring.

"Dean doesn't know what he's doing. Be patient, and he'll figure out what he wants."

"Wait." Sam finally twigged, ruining an otherwise sweet moment. "Castiel, are you… do you…"

Castiel flushed and glared at the floor again. Gabriel jabbed Sam in the ribs, before speaking calmly.

"Castiel has realised that he and Dean have a lot in common, and if Dean is gay, as pretty much everyone suspects, he would like to be there to support Dean throughout the… difficult period of adjustment."

"Oh." Sam said, brow furrowed. Then, as he caught the significant look Gabriel was giving him, his eyes widened. "Oh! Oh, well… Cas, if you can bring him out of the closet, more power to you. He won't listen to any of us, but… I think he might listen to you."

Castiel seemed cheered at this, and took another drink from his wine. Gabriel flashed Sam a grateful smile, as Pamela squeezed his hand. Castiel laughed.

"Who remembers the time Gabriel sabotaged the school production of Romeo and Juliet?"

Pamela and Gabriel both laughed at this, as Castiel smiled at Sam.

"You see, Gabriel had wanted a main part, such as Romeo, Tybalt or Mercutio, but instead they had cast him as one of the assorted Capulets. He was… fourteen, I believe?"

"Thirteen." Gabriel corrected.

"And he held a grudge. So, in the middle of the opening night performance, he runs up to the gallery with one of the other disgruntled actors… I believe she had been cast as lady Montague… and they proceed to moon everyone on stage."

"Seriously?" Sam laughed, staring at Gabriel.

"What? We were making an artistic statement. Weren't we, Lady M?"

"You know it." Pamela grinned, sitting back.

"Of course…" Gabriel chuckled, "it became a little less artistic when some dick moved the curtains so we were on display to everyone."

Pamela laughed and squeezed Sam's hand.

"Surprised, Sam? Please, someone tell me he's pulling a shocked face?"

"His jaw is in his lap." Gabriel grinned. "Which makes a change to it being in mine." Gabriel laughed, shielding himself from the various pillows and shoes that were thrown at him. He hiccoughed a slightly tipsy chuckle, and nuzzled further into Sam's arms.

"You love me really. You all think I'm hilarious."

"Close." Pamela said, smiling. "We all like to laugh at you. That's almost the same."

Gabriel blew a raspberry at her, and she blew one right back. Sam laughed.

"Nice to know we're all mature here."  
>"They're comedians." Castiel shrugged, lips twitching into a slight, indulgent smile. "It's not like they had to grow up, like the two of us."<p>

"Whoa!" Gabriel laughed, finding his brother's attempt at sass talk too funny to take any serious offence. "I'm wounded, Castiel! Ouch!"

"Yeah, don't hold back." Pamela agreed. "Say what you really think."

"I am so mortally offended…" Gabriel announced, standing up, "that I have to go to the bathroom." He slapped Sam on the thigh as he left.

"Oh god." Pamela giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "This is good. Sam, you should hang out with us more often."

"Yes, it is good to have another sane human being in the group." Castiel mumbled. Pamela laughed.

"Oh, isn't he adorable when he's drunk?"

"Thanks." Sam grinned. "I like this, too. It's fun to really spend time with you guys. I guess you're kind of the closest thing Gabriel has to family."

"Yeah." Pamela sighed. "Poor guy never made life easy for himself."

"Gabriel…" Castiel began, before moving so that he was next to Sam on the couch. "You need to understand, Gabriel has done a lot that I don't think he'll ever forgive himself for. Introducing us to his dates is possibly a bigger sign of commitment than I think I've ever seen him display."

"So…" Pamela chipped in. "No pressure."

The phone rang, cutting through the group's laugh. Sam chuckled, and got to his feet.

"I've got it."

"The phone, or Gabriel's burgeoning insanity?"

"Both." Sam smiled, before running to the kitchen and grabbing the phone. "Hello?"

"Gabriel?" It wasn't a voice Sam recognised.

"Uh, no, sorry he's… busy. Who's calling?"

There was an ominous pause, as the caller seemed to process the information.

"Balthazar. Who's this?"

"Uh… Sam." Sam ventured, trying to remember whether Gabriel had ever mentioned a Balthazar to him before. "Can I…"

"Sam. I'm sure I'd be very interested to hear exactly who you are and why you're answering Gabriel's phone, but for now I think you need to get Gabriel." He sounded weary. Luckily for Sam, at that moment, Gabriel bounded into the kitchen, a slightly bemused grin on his face as he took in Sam's lost frown.

"Hang on, here he is." He held the phone out to Gabriel. "Balthazar?"

"Oh." Gabriel blinked, taking the phone. He grinned up at Sam. "Go drink some more, I want to see you hysterically screaming drunk." Then, to the phone, "Y'ello, Back In Time dating agency. We're sorry, but the agency can't be held responsible for any "becoming your own grandfather" issues…"

Sam left Gabriel to his phone call, and returned to the couch.

"Why do I know the name Balthazar?"

"Balthazar?" Castiel sat up. "He's our cousin. He lives In England. Why?"

"He just phoned Gabriel. I was…"

"Oh." Pamela sat up, a troubled pout forming on her lips. "That can't be good."

"What?" Sam looked from Pamela to Castiel, and saw him staring at the kitchen with the same troubled intensity.

"Since Gabriel and I were exiled by our parents… Balthazar has been our only link to the rest of our family. It may not be bad, but it'll certainly be important."

Sam looked from one to the other, dimly aware that the world seemed to be retreating from him. It was that same dim horror he had felt when Castiel had mentioned Gabriel being in the hospital. He stood, and crossed the distance to the kitchen in five strides. He found Gabriel, phone pressed to his ear, sat heavily at one of the kitchen chairs. He stared into the distance. Sam watched him closely.

"Gabe? Gabriel?"

Gabriel waved a half-hearted gesture at Sam, not looking at him.

"Mhm." He sounded hoarse, and he was practically whispering into the phone. "No… Yeah. No, I understand. Just… Well, thanks for… for calling. Yeah… yeah, see you then. G'bye." He hung up, and sat, for a moment, perfectly still, staring into the distance.

"Gabriel?"

Gabriel blinked up at Sam, still not quite seeing him. He stood, pushing past him.

"So…"

Castiel and Pamela tried to look like they hadn't been straining to listen in.

"So Balthazar might be staying over for Christmas." Gabriel tried to laugh, but it was weak and shaky, the merest skeleton of mirth. "That'll… that'll be good."

"Gabriel." Sam rested a hand on his shoulder, concerned at how fragile Gabriel looked. He turned in towards the contact, and Sam unquestioningly hugged him tight. He rested his head on Sam's arm, his eyes screwed tight shut against the world.

"Michael's dead."


	18. Chapter 18

Gabriel curled further into Sam's chest, letting the warmth of the embrace anchor him. He felt Sam press a kiss to his forehead.

"You ok?"

"Yeah." Gabriel sniffed. "I guess. I don't know. I…" He broke away from the hug, sitting on the couch. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and picked up his wine glass. There was no reason for his movements; he didn't seem to know how to position himself. "I know it sounds bad, but I… I guess I said my goodbyes to Michael a long time ago."

"I didn't." Castiel was positively morose as he stared into his own drink. "Did Balthazar say how it..?"

"Car crash. I didn't ask for details."

Castiel nodded. Pamela held her hand out to him, and he took it gladly.

"I think… I think I need to be alone." He patted her hand, and stood to leave. Gabriel stood at the same time, his eyes locking with his brother's.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "I'm… I can't…" He sighed, gazing wearily around the group. Gabriel nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder and staring reassuringly into his eyes.

"You know where we are."

"Yes. Thank you. Good night Pamela. Sam."

"I think I might go too." Pamela cleared her throat, standing. "Unless you want me to stay?"

"No." Gabriel smiled, hugging her. "I'll be fine if you'll be fine." Pamela smiled, but it was wary. "Sam. Give me a hug?" Sam obliged, and he was not surprised to hear her whisper, "look after him."

She and Castiel left together. Gabriel wordlessly slotted himself back into Sam's arms, burying his face against the taller man's shoulder.

"What time is it?"

"About ten?"

"Are you staying over?"

"As long as you want me to."

"Ok." Gabriel sighed, hugging Sam tighter. "I think I might just go to bed."

"Sounds like a plan."

Gabriel nodded, backed away and walked into the bedroom. As they both got ready for bed, he was uncharacteristically quiet. They slipped silently into bed, lying side by side, their fingertips just touching. After a while of lying there in silence, Gabriel heard a curious snuffling around the corner of the door.

"Come on in, buddy. You're not interrupting anything tonight."

With a concerned "gwuff", Murdock leapt up onto the bed, curling up at Gabriel's knees, resting his head there and staring up at his owner. Gabriel patted the space between him and Sam, and Murdock obediently shuffled up the bed, nuzzling first one, then the other. Sam rested a hand on the dog's head. Gabriel rolled onto his side, stroking Murdock's back, and slowly dragging his eyes up to meet Sam's.

"Michael was the oldest. He was always the boss. We probably paid more attention to him than we did to our parents."

His breathing was quiet in the night. Sam moved his free hand to rest over Gabriel's head, smoothing his thumb over his lover's forehead.

"Michael and Raphael knew about me, before I came out. Raphael was happy if I was happy, but Michael tried to… he thought he could talk me out of it. Out of being gay. At the time, I hated him for it. He wanted me to be something I'm not, but as I've grown older, I get that he was just trying to make life easier for everyone. For me."

Sam watched him, his slow breathing, his eyes on Murdock, his slight, twitching fingers gripping the dog's fur.

"He wanted… He wasn't a bad guy."

He leant forward, kissed Sam and then Murdock on the forehead, before settling back in the bed.

"Good night."

"Good night." Sam watched Gabriel roll over onto his side, and pressed his hand against the sensitive spot between Gabriel's shoulder-blades. "I love you."

Gabriel rolled his shoulders, shrugging off the contact.

"Love you too. Just… need some space, yeah?"

"Yeah."

They didn't sleep easily. Murdock struggling to kick them both out of bed didn't help.

(-*-)

The next morning, Sam woke early, slipping quietly out of bed and making sure not to wake Gabriel or Murdock. Making breakfast in bed for a cordon bleu chef was nerve-wracking, sure, but it was worth it. And Murdock was easy enough to satisfy. He started off opening up a tin of wet food for the dog and emptying it into Murdock's bowl, before washing his hands and starting on waffles. Gabriel had a waffle iron. It only made sense to use it.

The first two were somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time, but they slowly improved as he continued using up the mix. He almost didn't hear Gabriel wander into the room behind him, resting a hand against the small of Sam's back and pressing a kiss to his neck.

"Hmm. And what is this, young grasshopper?"

"It was supposed to be breakfast in bed…"

"I can go back in there, if you want."

"No, now you're up, you can make yourself useful. Make some coffee or something. And give me a smile."

Sam closed the waffle iron once more, and turned to face Gabriel, his hands resting on his lover's hips. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but gave a shy, grateful smile all the same. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, staring into his eyes.

"You know, sometimes I almost buy the hard-ass 'serious and macho' act. Then you do something ridiculously soft and girlish like this, and I realise that you are just a big ol' faker, Sam Winchester."

Sam laughed, smiling at Gabriel's smile.

"So how are you feeling?"

"A little hung-over." Gabriel shrugged. "But I'm fine, I guess."

"Really?" Sam raised his eyebrows. Gabriel shrugged.

"Yeah. It's... like I said; I said my goodbyes to Michael a long time ago. It was shocking, yeah, but I'm… I can deal with it. Come on; let's take these to the couch."

Gabriel grabbed the plate of waffles, flashed a smile at Sam, and stepped over Murdock, who was face down in his food bowl. Sam knew he was trying to fool both of them, but he was damned if he knew how to get him to admit it.

(-*-)

"You're sure you'll be alright?"

"Sam, you've spent the whole weekend here." Gabriel leant against the door frame, cocky glare firmly in place. "I'm fine. Clearly. I'm going to spend today writing material, and you're going to go to your classes, because if your grades fall and it's my fault, your brother will skin me alive."

"But, I just…" Sam was struggling into his sneakers, looking incredibly awkward.

"I'm fine." He grabbed Sam's neck and pulled him into a kiss, before pointing him out of the door and slapping his ass. "So go to class, go home and check Dean hasn't suffocated himself in that closet he's barricaded himself inside."

"Sure?"

"Yes. Now go."

"Love you." Sam smiled, as he reluctantly edged out of the door.

"Love you too, now go!"

Gabriel watched Sam hurry out of the building, before sitting down and writing. He wasn't really sure what he was writing about, but it worked. He wrote, stream of consciousness, everything he could think to write. Two hours and twelve pages later, he stopped for coffee. Then he re-read, edited, combined and catalogued, which somehow led to writing even more, which then had to be further re-read, edited, combined and catalogued. He lost track of time, and before he realised, it was dark. He fed Murdock, had some coffee for himself, and went to bed.

He spent the next day at Pamela's, going through all his new material with her. Yet more writing and honing, but it was really just an excuse to have a good gossip session.

"So I haven't seen you much lately, what with Sam practically putting reins on me…"

"Gabriel, I thought we'd decided that I didn't want to know the gory details…"

"Ha." Gabriel linked arms with her, as they nestled back on the couch. "So how are you coping with it?"

"I don't know. I mean… I guess I'm kind of like you. I hadn't even thought about Michael in… years. But it's still really weird."

"Knowing that door's closed once and for all?"

"Yeah." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Not that I'd have gone back to him. High school… what a time."

"I'm glad." Gabriel pinched her arm. "I hated having to share you with him. Especially when…. You know, when it all happened."

"The guy was nineteen, I couldn't expect him to put up with a blind girlfriend."

"I put up with you." Gabriel smirked as she pinched his waist. He moved, wrapping his arms around her so they could hug properly. "I just… I don't know if it's really hit yet."

"Same… Want to change the subject?"

"Ok."

"I'm thinking about getting a seeing eye dog."

"Really? But you said you'd never…"

"I know, I know. But… it's really more for companionship than anything, plus, it would make life easier. And she could be a friend for Murdock."

"Pamela, I paid a vet to make sure Murdock wouldn't need "friends". It was that or put up with him humping the damn table."

Pamela chuckled, her mouth twitching into a slightly sad smile.

"Have you heard from Castiel lately?"

"Not since the news. I guess he's thinking things through."

"Do you think he'll ever get anywhere with Dean? I mean, after all this, I could see his confidence being shot through, and it wasn't like he had much to start with."

"Maybe. It's down to Dean, really. And, I mean, let's face it, he's so far in the closet, he's likely to find Narnia."

Pamela chuckled.

"Write that one down. We should set up another tour. Or at least a few practice gigs, just to test out some of this."

"We should." Gabriel agreed, scribbling down a few notes. "You want to go now?"

(-*-)

Sam had been working at the Auto-Yard when Gabriel called him. He smirked at Dean, left him to try and explain the term "rust bucket" to the car's owner, and wandered off to get a little more privacy.

"Hey."

"Hi." Gabriel sounded tired. "So, um, Michael's funeral's tomorrow."

"Yowch. Are you going to be…"

"I'll be fine. Well, not 'fine', but… you know. But it's upstate, so I'll probably stay up there overnight. And… Um…"

"Gabriel?"

"Sam, I hate doing this over the phone."

Sam felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

"Pamela and I think that we need to do a little touring, just to test out the new material and… you know, get ourselves re-established. It'll only be for a week or two."

"Oh, dude." Sam almost collapsed with relief. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you were going to break up with me or something."

"Give me some credit." Gabriel sounded like he was smiling. "If I was going to dump that fine ass of yours, I'd make sure it was by far more memorable means. But… I'm not going to be around for a while. And I probably won't be answering my phone much either."

"Ok… You want me to come 'round later and we can say goodbye properly, or..?"

"No." Gabriel sighed. "I've got… Got to prepare myself for this, you know?"

"Ok." Sam tried not to sound as selfish as he felt. "Well, I guess I'll see you in a week or two."

"Yeah. We can make up for lost time then."

There was a pause. Sam cleared his throat.

"I love you."

"I know you do… Ditto."

Gabriel hung up. Sam realised he was getting some choice glares from his co-workers, and decided it would be best to please them and get back to work.

(-*-)

Balthazar stood at the graveside, his gaze flicking around the familiar faces of cousins, siblings and parents, normally dispersed across the country, but brought together for this one day. Stood in a big field, surrounded for miles by headstones and old church buildings, with grey sky and dull grass. Gathered only by death.

Castiel stood back from the rest of the group, ignored but not shunned. Most of the family were pretty much ambivalent. Balthazar flashed him a weak smile, which he returned. Poor Castiel. He didn't look like he'd slept well, lately. Being here, though, at the funeral, seemed to calm him. Give him some sort of closure.

Balthazar's gaze wandered beyond his cousin, beyond the minister, and beyond the small cluster of darkly dressed figures. There was the other face he'd been looking for.

Balthazar knew that, if Gabriel were to approach the grave and mourn with the rest of them, he would, at worst, be ignored. Balthazar knew no one blamed the second youngest for his twin's death. No one except Gabriel. It had been twenty years, maybe more, since Raphael died. The first time in around twenty years that Gabriel had laid eyes on his family, and here they were at another funeral. There was probably something poetic about that, Balthazar mused, wishing Gabriel would swallow his pride or fear or whatever it was that kept him so far away from them, longing to step forward.

But there he stood, a black smudge on a grey horizon, watching the family he was too scared to approach. Too hurt to return to. Balthazar understood, of course. If he had been treated half as poorly as Gabriel had, he would have done exactly the same. But it was oddly heartbreaking, seeing Gabriel so near, yet so far. Unable to mourn his brother properly for fear of what the rest of the family might say. Gabriel's eyes caught Balthazar's for a split second, and in that second they seemed scared, angry, tired and defiant all in one, like a trapped animal.

Gabriel turned and left, and no one tried to stop him. Half of them probably hadn't realised he was there.

Balthazar's eyes flicked back to the coffin.

(-*-)

Sam had to work on a paper.

(-*-)

Sam had to pick up an extra couple of shifts a week at the auto yard, because Ellen got sick.

(-*-)

Sam lost his phone.

(-*-)

Pamela phoned Sam, giving him a welcome break from his end-of-term assignment.

"Hey, Pam. How's the tour?"

"Tour?" Pamela repeated, sounding genuinely confused. "Is Gabriel there? I just… I know he said he left Murdock with Castiel, but I wanted to make sure, because I thought I heard…"

"Wait, whoa." Sam sat forward in his chair, a numb, dull sensation wrapping itself around his brain and creeping up through his stomach. He knew. Somehow, he just knew. "Gabriel… told me he was on tour. With you."

"Oh, shit." Pamela was scared and emotional, and Sam was already functioning on pure, cold adrenaline.

"Phone Castiel, get him over to the building as soon as possible. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"But what…"

Sam was already on his way over.


	19. Chapter 19

Murdock pawed at the door, whining and looking up at the bipeds who towered over him. They looked as angry and scared as he felt, and were hammering at the door just as ineffectively.

"Gabriel!" Sam hollered, getting nowhere against the locked door. "Gabriel, open up."

"Sam…" Castiel rested a hand on his shoulder. "We are all concerned for Gabriel's welfare, but perhaps such an aggressive tone is…"

"Castiel, just don't, ok?" Sam glared at him, before returning his glare to the door. "Gabriel, either open up, or we'll force our way in."

"Sam." Pamela rested a hand on his arm. "Look, let me try." She gripped his arm, and he reluctantly backed away. Pamela knocked gently against the door, and spoke carefully, struggling against nerves.

"Gabe. Honey. We're all really worried; we just want to make sure you're ok. No one's mad, but we'd prefer it if you let us in. Now no one wants Sammy here to break the door, but you know he will."

Silence.

"Gabriel?"

They heard quiet footsteps shuffling towards them. There was a heavy rattling as the door was unlocked. The handle turned, the door popped open, and the footsteps shuffled away again. With cautious, concerned glances to each other, Sam, Castiel and Pamela followed Murdock inside.

Murdock whimpered as stagnant air and unfamiliar smells assaulted his senses. Sam scratched the dog behind the ear in a vague attempt to calm him, although he wasn't sure who was more worried.

The curtains were drawn. The air was heavy with smells of grease, sweat and alcohol. The kitchen bin held only a handful of take-out and pizza boxes, and empty bottles littered most available surfaces. In the dingy light that managed to permeate the curtains, a haggard shadow of a familiar figure was visible on the couch. The TV played over silent images.

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah." He sighed, slumping further against the couch cushions. His eyes were dull, his skin covered in a grey sheen of collected grime. He looked like he hadn't bathed or eaten in four days. He stared blearily at Sam. "You found me."

"No kidding." Sam approached the couch warily. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know." Gabriel stared blearily at the TV, not focusing on the images. "I was kind of hoping, if I just sat still and drank heavily and didn't eat or talk to anyone… maybe everything would just go away."

"You…" Sam blinked, trying to mask his hurt. "Were you going to… you didn't try to…"

"Kill myself?" Gabriel finished, shooting a bitter glare at Sam. "You can say it, you know, I'm not a child. I thought about it, but I figured the long, slow route of drinking myself to oblivion would be the best way out."

"Why?" Sam sat down next to him, trying to avoid inhaling where possible. "Why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because, you dick, I didn't want to." Gabriel stood, stumbled slightly, and glared around. "I wanted to make it all nice and quiet and just fade out of everyone's lives. You couldn't let me do that though, you stupid, selfish S.…"

"Gabriel, that's enough." Castiel said. "We just…"

"Look, get out of my house. All of you, just fuck off."

"No." Sam stood, resting a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "You're upset about Michael. We get it. You're allowed to be upset at losing your family, but…"

"Family." Gabriel laughed, shrugging out from Sam's grasp. "You'd know all about that. You and your freaky co-dependence with your brother. Your Hicksville adopted family out of a Christmas family movie and your fucking psychopath father…"

"Gabriel." Sam took a deep breath, trying to control himself. Gabriel was drunk, Sam told himself, if only to keep calm. He didn't mean it.

"That's not…"

"Keep out of it, Pamela. Whatever it is you're going to say, I think I've heard it before. Like your jokes." Gabriel shoved past them all into the kitchen, and began half-heartedly examining the assembled bottles, searching for one that wasn't empty.

"Look, I know you're hurting. This is just you getting stuck." Pamela smiled. "Maybe… maybe you need some time on the road."

"I'm not going back on the road. Ever." He scowled, pushing Murdock away with his foot. "I'm done with the whole thing. I can't stand in front of another group of slack-jawed, ungrateful braying morons and tell them my fucking life story. Even if it is a joke, I just can't do it any more."

"Sure you can." Pamela tried to be reassuring. She reached out for him, but he didn't take her hand. "Where's that new stuff you wrote? That was really good…"

"Canned it. Canned the lot of it. The notebook, the file. All gone." Gabriel found a bottle of vodka that still had a few measures left, and swigged at it. "I'm not going back to that god awful life. I can't do it. I won't."

"Gabriel…"

"No, I officially retire. I don't want stand up. I don't want life on the road, and I don't want any of you." Gabriel scowled around the group, storming back over to the couch and throwing himself down. He took another swig from the bottle. "So you can all just leave me alone and get on with your lives."

Sam stared at him for a moment. He'd been expecting the defensive, angry Gabriel he'd argued with before, but this was entirely new and disconcerting. The man he loved was not the man on the couch in front of him. Murdock sniffed around Sam's ankles, confused by the unfamiliar condition of his home. As if sensing his master's sadness, he leapt onto the couch and started nuzzling Gabriel's arm, in a way that usually resulted in hugs.

Gabriel shoved the dog off the couch, and aimed a kick at him.

"Get lost."

Murdock yelped as he fell to the floor, and backed away as Gabriel stood.

"Alright, that's enough." Sam growled, grabbing Gabriel by the shoulder and pulling him to his feet. "Pamela, try and calm Murdock down. Castiel, can you open the curtains and make this place liveable?"

"Get off me."

"No. We're going to get you sober and clean."

"Get off!"

"No. Come on." Sam maybe gripped Gabriel's arm a little tighter than necessary as he marched over to the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

(-*-)

Sam ran Gabriel's bath, and sat back on the closed toilet lid, glaring at Gabriel. Gabriel glared back.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Get in, or I will throw you in. You know I can."

"You can't tell me what to do. It's my…"

"I have to tell you what to do. You're not taking care of yourself."

"I don't care! You can't keep your nose in your own business, can you? I want this, Sam. Just leave me to rot."

"Gabriel, I get it." Sam stood and rested a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, trying to calm him. "You're sad. You've lost your brother. I understand how you feel…"

"No you don't!" Gabriel shrugged off Sam's hand and kicked the bathroom door, his voice choked by tears. "Why does everyone keep saying that? You don't have the slightest Idea. And I know you don't because I haven't told you…"

"So tell me." Sam seemed immovable, his face stern and tone level. Gabriel leant against the bathroom door, slowly sliding down to the floor.

"You'll hate me." It was barely a whisper, and his eyes were wet and reproachful when he looked up at Sam, but it was said with conviction. "Why'd you think I did all this? If you'd all just forgotten about me like I wanted, I could cope. Just… I don't want you to… hate me."

"You've got a strange way of showing it." Sam sighed, and ran a hand over his face. He forced a smile at Gabriel, in hopes that he'd be reassuring. "No matter what you say, I will stay here and get you through this."

Gabriel stared up at the ceiling; his entire body slumped as he struggled to hold back tears.

"I had my chance. I could have… Michael came to see me. Like, two years ago. I didn't tell anyone, not Cas, not Pamela. He came and… he wanted to make up. But I told him I didn't want to see him." He laughed a maudlin, bitter laugh, and looked to Sam. "Except I might have worded it less tactfully. My last words to him were telling him that he was nothing to me. I told him he could go die. And now he's gone. So go ahead, tell me I'm a dick. Hate me."

Sam sat for a moment, before heaving a sigh and standing, holding his hand out to Gabriel.

"You never think someone you know might die. You never think it's your last chance. No one can hate you for that. You'll feel better once you've had a bath. C'mon."

He reached down and pulled Gabriel to his feet, a soft half-smile on his lips. Gabriel still looked utterly dejected as he obediently stripped and climbed into the bath.

Five minutes later, Gabriel was half-heartedly scrubbing at his skin, trying not to look at Sam.

"You don't have to watch me, you know."

"You've already admitted you were thinking about killing yourself. I'm not going to leave you alone in a bath with a razor in easy reach."

"I wouldn't… not with people in the apartment."  
>"Oh, you have a strategy. That's totally reassured me."<p>

"Why are you upset with me?"

"Why do you think, Gabriel?" Sam glared at him. "I stayed here for the whole weekend worrying about you; you promised me you'd be fine, and then you go and do this…"

"So you're upset because my breakdown didn't happen at a time that was convenient for you."

"That's not what I meant… You know, if you can't figure out why I'm upset, then whatever. That just tells me all I need to know about us."

"Oh no, I get why you're mad. I'm just wondering if it's more because you were concerned about me or because I insulted your family."

"I'm upset because you lied to all of us. You lied to our faces, then you went off the grid, and when we try to help you, you lash out at us. At me. We just want to help you, but you…"

"You ever think that, if I wanted your help, I wouldn't have lied to you in the first place?"

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, before leaving. He left the bathroom door open, and started to help Castiel get the apartment in some sort of liveable condition. Gabriel glared at the bathroom wall and continued to half-heartedly clean himself. He heard Sam and Castiel talking about him in hushed tones.

(-*-)

Sam left clean clothes in the bathroom for Gabriel. By the time he'd gotten dressed and wandered through to the kitchen, you almost couldn't tell that the apartment had been in squalor for over a week.

Sam, Castiel and Pamela were all around the kitchen table, drinking water. A glass of water sat at the empty chair. Gabriel guessed it was for him. Murdock was sat under Pamela's chair, and approached Gabriel cautiously. Gabriel sighed, realising he was about to have the worst hangover in history. He extended his hand to the dog, who slowly approached his master and gently sniffed at him.

"Sorry, buddy. I guess I'm the king of misdirected anger, huh?" He scratched Murdock behind the ears and sat in the free chair, glancing awkwardly around the assembled group. "So… apologies all 'round? I'm buying."

"Don't bother." Sam sighed, scowling at Gabriel.

"What? I'm just…"

"No. Be honest, Gabriel." Sam leant back in his chair. "If you're going to apologise right now, I want you to mean it. That you're ashamed of what you've done and that you're not going to do it again."

"Sam…" Gabriel blinked, hunching slightly under the weight of Sam's words. "Come on… yeah, I said some stuff. But I was drunk. You can't…"

"Being drunk doesn't create feelings, Gabriel. It just stops you from giving a damn who you hurt with them."

"Is this because I said things about your family?" Gabriel's brow furrowed. "You're seriously hung up about that. I got to say, it's kind of selfish…"  
>"Oh my god." Sam stood, glaring at Castiel. "You see? Didn't I tell you? Forget it." He gripped Pamela's shoulder, and she briefly held his hand. Sam shot another glare at Gabriel, before heading for the door.<p>

"Sam? Where are you going?"

"I said I'd be here for as long as you need me. And right now you really don't seem like you need me."

"But…" Gabriel twisted in his chair, caught half between standing and sitting as Sam gave him a glare that said following him wouldn't be wise. "You're not… is this us ending?"

"I don't know." Sam sighed, already halfway through the front door. "I just… You've had your space. Now I need mine."

And with that, he left. Murdock looked from the closed door to his stunned master, gave a disgruntled bark and curled up under the table. Gabriel turned confused eyes on Castiel.

"What did he mean? What did he say to you?"

Castiel cleared his throat, and patted Gabriel's hand, pulling him back towards the table.

"Sam has… some concerns about your relationship."

"Honey." Pamela pressed her fingers to her lips, before resting her hands on the table. "I think it's… I think it's time we staged a sort of intervention."

(-*-)

Sam stormed down the street, hands in his pockets, glaring at the sidewalk.

He remembered every promise he'd ever made Gabriel. Every collection of soothing, calming words that had been used to talk him down from the heights of insecure panic. He had always thought he'd be able to follow through on them. He didn't like the idea of lying. He didn't like the idea of chickening out on his promises.

But he and Gabriel both needed to learn to sort their priorities. After the Christmas vacation, Sam would be having a meeting with his student advisor, to discuss his falling grades and what that meant for his prospects after graduation. He might have bemoaned his bad marks to Gabriel, if he'd thought for a moment he'd listen. With a detached, bitter sense of humour, he noted that there were far too many words for boyfriends, lovers or paramours, but you only needed the one name for an ex.


	20. Chapter 20

Castiel shifted awkwardly in his seat, still seeming reluctant to let go of Gabriel's hand.

"Sam has… Sam has begun to find a lot of your statements regarding commitment… He has found them contradictory."

"English, Castiel, for christ's sake…"

"You're dicking him around, Gabriel." Pamela sighed, sitting back in her chair. "You're meeting the parents one minute then… then disappearing on him the next. He's getting tired of it."

Gabriel tensed for a moment, staring at Castiel's hopeless, helpless apologetic face, and getting the significant urge to separate it from his neck.

"Yeah. And?"

"Well aren't you upset by this?"

"Yeah, I am." Gabriel sneered. "It fucking sucks, but he's probably right. So that's it? That's his big hissy fit, is I'm being a dick like I told him I would be, and now he's surprised like I knew he would be, and now he's having second thoughts like I told him he would?"

Castiel glared at him.

"If you are expecting sympathy…"

"I don't expect sympathy, Castiel. I haven't expected sympathy from you or Sam or anyone for a good long time now. Sam wants out, yeah, I'm going to be sad about it. I'm going to miss him but he's got a career and his whole fucking life stretching out in front of him. He's got a chance still, and if he gets the hell away from me then his chance will last a lot longer."

Gabriel stood, and started making himself coffee.

"You could still go after him." Pamela said, with a forced delivery that said she was trying to ignore what he'd just said. "He's probably…"

"He doesn't want to see me. He wants me, he can have me and gladly. But… Maybe… Maybe this is just the way it's supposed to be. We had fun, it's all done with, we can call this a learning experience and move on." Gabriel couldn't quite look at his friends as he convinced himself. "It's for the best."

Murdock just scratched at the door and demanded to know where Sam had gone.

(-*-)

Balthazar crossed his arms, glaring down at the couch.

"This really isn't necessary…"

"Yes, and if I had a choice, I'd rather not be here. But Castiel seems determined you're going to do something stupid." He shrugged, smiling roguishly at his cousin. "And it helps that I am no longer welcome at my hotel."

"And sleeping on my couch is your first alternative?" Gabriel sighed, dumping down a pile of blankets for him. "What did you even do?"

"There was a misunderstanding involving Room Service and the euphemism contained therein." Balthazar waved it aside. "Anyway. What entertainments have we planned for this evening?"

"Well, Castiel made me swear off getting drunk for at least the next month, but we can still watch a shitty movie, I guess."

"Sounds charming." Balthazar sat himself down on the couch and stared up at his cousin. Gabriel actually didn't mind having him stay; at least he wasn't constantly checking his mental health, or trying to convince him to make up with Sam, or god only knows what else. Balthazar was happy to just discuss what was on TV, or whether Gabriel wanted to make him some nice food, and why he really should make him some nice food.

So why did Gabriel want to ruin that?

"Balthazar?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Balthazar flinched, before turning wide, hurt eyes on Gabriel.

"How dare you even suggest such a thing…"

"I know, forget it. Moment of madness."

"Good lord, Gabriel." Balthazar scowled. "What happened to you? First Castiel, with that bizarre sadistic "thank you sir, may I have another"-fest…"

"In fairness, he has stopped that now…"

"Yes, as I understand it, for a man so closeted he has a time share on a wire coat-hanger…"

"Ooh, good one."

"We were supposed to be the three musketeers, Gabriel. Young, wild, free… Now Castiel's desperately clinging to any ill-thought out fling, you're talking about love…"

"You're right!" Gabriel held his hands up. "Forget it. Forget I said anything; let's watch a film. What do you want to watch?"

Balthazar stared incredulously at Gabriel for a moment more, before fighting back a shudder and turning his attention to the DVD collection.

"How about… something classic. What was that one you liked about the parade and had the teenagers in it? If you need cheering up…"

"Ok, one, you mean Ferris Bueller. And two, no, choose something else."

"What? Why, you always loved that film…"

"Yeah, and now I don't want to watch it."

"But…"

"I just don't, ok?"

"Oh." Balthazar said, picking up on Gabriel's sharp tone. "This wouldn't be anything to do with the mention of the "L" word, would it?"

"Shut up." Gabriel snapped, standing and storming across the room. "I don't know why I thought you'd give a shit about anyone but yourself. Dumb hope."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to test out what they say about wishing in one hand and shitting in the other."

"Charming, as ever." Balthazar called, as the bathroom door slammed shut. Gabriel gripped the sink basin and glared at himself in the mirror. Ok, so maybe he wasn't exactly stable, but then he wasn't sure he'd ever been.

Well, he was.

He knew exactly when he'd last felt like he was calm and controlled, but he wasn't going to let himself think about that because that meant thinking about Sam and he wasn't going to do that because he just wasn't.

It wasn't like he didn't know he'd been in love with Sam. At this point he was almost one hundred percent sure he would never meet anyone who would ever make him as happy as Sam had done. He would never meet anyone who had been so accepting, so giving, so utterly willing to commit to a relationship…

And that was wrong.

A relationship wasn't about two people just running into each other and clinging together for dear life, out of pure fear of being swept out to sea alone. Gabriel had been around the track enough times to know that a relationship was two individuals who agreed to spend increasing amounts of time together.

You can't be afraid of losing them; you have to trust that they'll come back.

You can't be afraid of being alone; you have to trust that they'll be there.

Let them let you in, so Ellen had told him. But what did that really even mean? He didn't know. He didn't particularly care, at this point, either.

Actually, that was a bald-faced lie; of course he cared. He just didn't want to admit that he cared.

Man, he made things complicated for himself.

Balthazar hammered on the door.

"Gabriel? Did the sewer alligators creep up and get you, or did you just fall in and drown?"

Gabriel growled and stomped out to watch whatever awful movie Balthazar had selected.

(-*-)

Dean glared at the back of the front door, his arms crossed. The image was one so daunting that, when Sam finally entered, his first words were "Jesus, shit!"

"Where the hell were you?" Dean demanded, stern voice very much in place.

"Out." Sam said, shrugging off his brother's criticism in a way he hadn't had to do since he was fourteen. "I had to go talk to my course advisor."

"Why was your phone off?"

"I lost it." Sam said, kicking his shoes off and pushing past Dean to his bedroom.

"How could you lose it? You knew where it was yesterday…"

"Yeah, well, maybe I lost it on purpose." Sam flashed Dean the most insincere of smiles, and slammed the bedroom door in his face.

Dean pursed his lips, nodded, and pulled himself up to his full height. There was only so much shit he could put up with, he had decided, and this shit was one shit too many. He took his phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial one. An expert opinion was needed.

(-*-)

Gabriel stumbled out of bed, through the living room and towards his front door. There better be a horde of rampant, sex-crazed, flaming zombies outside for someone to be that adamant about him opening the door at five in the morning. Balthazar remained unconscious, because frankly the rampant, sex-crazed flaming zombies would been to be jumping on him before he'd wake up.

Gabriel opened the door and was shoved out of the way by Pamela, who accidentally-on-purpose knocked her cane over his shins.

"You've got this coming, dick."

"What? Pam, you…"

Then he was shoved the other way as Dean pushed past him too.

"Ow!"

"You think that hurts, you've seen nothing yet."

Then he felt his neck nearly crack under the force of something that was less a slap and more an open-handed punch to the back of his head.

"You utter god-damned idiot." Ellen stood in Gabriel's doorway, face set in a very dangerous expression and, as if to complete the image, Rumsfeld the Rottweiler sniffed around her ankles. Gabriel gawped at her.

"You… what the hell is everyone even doing here? How did you get in, why are you beating me up, and…"

"Pamela and I used to go to step class together." Ellen said, pushing past him and leading Rumsfeld into the apartment. "I didn't say anything before in case of a situation like this. And I'm beating you up because you are a goddamn fool, Gabriel, who deserves it."

"Ruff." Said Rumsfeld, before lying down behind the couch. Clearly he was having nothing to do with it.

"Ok." Gabriel sighed, running a hand over the bump that was already rising on the side of his head. "Fine. Yes, I'm a tool, yes, I broke poor Sammy's heart and I'm sorry, it's not him it's me…"

"Oh get over yourself." Ellen shoved him in the shoulder. Gabriel looked to Dean, who held his hands up.

"Dude, you're on your own here. Oh, and Jo says you're an idiot too, but she had to go back to college."

"Yeah, she says you're a total utter moron." Ellen aimed another slap, which this time Gabriel had the forethought to duck. "How could you let Sam run away?"

"I didn't… he… what did you want me to do, take him hostage?"

Murdock barked, demanding to know who woke him. The jack russell looked around, noted the big, sleepy looking Rottweiler, and decided he'd be better off not knowing.

"You weren't supposed to let him go!"

"But he wanted to!"

"Oh, Sam's never known what he wanted; why else d'you think he's still in education?" She growled, took a deep breath, and then tried again, a little calmer. "Gabriel, Sam has spent his whole life running away from what's good for him. He needs you to tell him to stop it. He needs to know that you're going to commit to him. Words aren't enough, hun, you need actions."

"Gabriel…" Balthazar mumbled, sleepily, sitting up on the couch. The invaders seemed to notice him for the first time. "What time is it, who are these people and make me breakfast."

Dean stared at Gabriel. Gabriel stared back.

"This better not be how it looks."

"Cousin! He's my cousin!" Gabriel exclaimed, feeling so violated on so many levels.

"Ooh!" Pamela smiled, throwing herself down on the couch. "Balthazar's still here?"

"Pamela." Balthazar smiled, suddenly very alert indeed. Gabriel rolled his eyes and tried desperately to cling to a little sanity.

"Would those parties who intend to hook up with someone tonight please take their disgusting happiness out of my damn apartment now?"

"Gabriel…"

"If you want to be anything other than in the most abject misery, get the hell out of my apartment. Now."

Balthazar and Pamela edged quietly out of the apartment. There was a pause, and then Dean started edging towards the door too. Gabriel stared at him.

"What? You said 'anyone who's hoping to get lucky'… I mean, I'm not… not with them… Fuck it, I'm going to starbucks." Dean left. Ellen stared at Gabriel.

"You need to talk. Let's talk."

"Thanks, but I'm fine…"

"I wasn't asking. Talk."

Rumsfeld stared up at the humans, and heaved himself to his feet, wondering if the other dog he could smell was more interesting than the over-emotional bipeds.


	21. Chapter 21

"It's a simple enough question." Ellen currently stood between Gabriel and the door. She really couldn't be escaped. "Do you want Sam back or not?"

"I'm not having this conversation, ok? If Sam has anything to say to me, he is welcome to…"

"Answer the question."

"No. You can't just…"

"Answer the question."

"I'm not…"

"Yes or no?"

"Alright, alright. Fine. Yes, I would love to have Sam back. I mean come on, I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid."

"So why don't you just call him up, and…"

"He left me." Gabriel held up his hands, nudging past her to the kitchen. "He wants to come back, it's all on him."

Ellen stared at Gabriel for a moment, her eyes narrowed in shrewd calculation.

"Why do you think he left?"

"Coffee?"

"Please, hun."

Gabriel slapped half-heartedly at the coffee maker before slipping down into a seat at the table.

"It's my fault. I get that. I've… come to terms with it. I'm a lot of neuroses for one guy to deal with, especially when he's got as much going on as Sam has right now."

"Really? That's why you think he left?"

"Yeah, he pretty much said so himself. I'm paranoid, I have too much baggage, I'm not responsible enough…"

"He actually said this?"  
>"Yeah. Well… sort of. It was implied."<p>

"So what did he say?"

Gabriel opened his mouth, realised he honestly couldn't remember, and then slipped further into his sulk when he saw Ellen still staring at him.

"It just was, ok?"

"Oh… Gabriel. Honey." Ellen smiled a thin-lipped, motherly smile, and sat down next to him, resting her hand on his arm. "You poor, sweet little thing…"

Gabriel was starting to feel a little comforted by her.

"You're an ass."

Then again, he thought, as Ellen slapped his arm, maybe not.

"Ow! Both my arm and my feelings are hurt now, by the way…"

"Get over yourself! It's not about you. It was never about you. And you've just been too wrapped up in your own pessimism to see it." She shuffled her chair around and leant in closer. "Look, you know you're probably the first person Sam's had any real sort of relationship with since Jess, right?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Jess who died in a house fire the night before he wanted to break up with her?"

"Yeah…" Gabriel dimly recalled swapping stories of exes on a rain-soaked night in the middle of a power outage. He much better recalled a slightly drunken make-out session, but that was neither here nor there.

"You know why he was going to break up with her?"  
>"He was cheating, right? Oh my god… is that what this is? Did he cheat on me?"<p>

"No, you damn pixie, calm down."  
>"Well, you did… 'Pixie'?"<p>

"Yeah, on account of you're too small and hyperactive to be a fairy. Now come on, Gabriel, use that brain of yours. How many guys would feel bad about not telling their girlfriend the truth? So bad that he never went back to the guy he was cheating on her with? There's not many who'd feel so bad about that for so long. And Sam's locked himself away in education. He works two jobs and still studies. He doesn't have to."

"He doesn't?"

"His father may have been many things, Gabriel, but he wasn't a poor man. Sam won't take his father's money out of the trust fund, and he won't let himself have any downtime. You know what he does when he's stressed out?"

"Screams into a cushion, then starts working out." Gabriel didn't like the sense of dull dread Ellen was giving him, or the slow sinking feeling he was getting in the bottom of his stomach. This really wasn't about him. And he didn't know how to deal with it. The look Ellen was giving him wasn't helping the confusion; forceful, kind, sad, and honest. There was so much damn compassion there, too much, and he wanted to make it better just to stop her looking at him but he didn't know what to do.

"Sam doesn't like being left alone with his thoughts. He likes to have something to focus on so that he can't think about himself. And to a point, that's healthy. But he's so committed now to making sure everyone else is doing ok that he just can't even start dealing with himself. That's why he needs someone like you. Someone who he can help, and who can help him back. The fact is, he's spent so long around emotionally stunted people like Dean… I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my boys, but they don't make life easy for themselves or each other. Sam worries too much about other people, and making sure they understand how they feel. But he won't admit to us the fact that he's failing his classes, or that he's tired from working two jobs. He's just too busy trying to live up to everyone's expectations."

Gabriel nodded, staring at the table top and ignoring the coffee maker which was humming away in the background.

"S'why he walked… All the time we were together… every big moment we had was me letting myself get into a relationship. He was just happy to take on whatever crazy I dumped on him. Or… y'know, that's what I thought… When I told him about my exes, my family… when he was there for me, and Pamela… He was always promising things he could do. Acting like he was a Knight in goddamn shining armour…"

"There's a person in that armour. And he hurts just as easy as the rest of them." Ellen sighed, stood, and headed for the door. "I think I'll pass on that coffee, actually. Got to get back to the salvage yard; Bobby's probably spitting feathers that we up and left like we did. Rumsfeld!"

The Rottweiler trotted obediently to her side, and she opened the door.

"Gabriel, honey. I can't tell you what you should do. And you're both adults, so I'm not going to. But I will say that maybe you've been looking at things the wrong way. Maybe Sam's not the one doing the rescuing." And with that, she left. Gabriel turned to the coffee maker, realised it had spilled all over the counter, and sighed.

Sometimes, he was pretty sure his life was a joke.

He grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing, laughing bitterly to himself.

"A stand up comic, a law student, a closet-case, a mechanic and his wife all go to see a blind woman perform stand up…"

It was either a joke or a student movie inspired by 'For the Benefit of Mr Kite'.

(-*-)

Sam stared thoughtlessly at the smug, smiling faces on the motivational posters in the student support annex. He heard the door buzzer go, and trudged wearily into his student advisor's office. He really didn't want to see his student advisor, fortwo reasons.

First, his actually advisor had left several months ago, so he was currently assigned to one of the worst advisors there while a replacement was found.

And, second, the advisor he was currently assigned to was Crowley.

As in, 'I fucked your brother and his current crush' Crowley.

Dick.

Crowley was sat behind the laminated Ikea special desk that each advisor in the annex was given, and looked about as out of place as a vintage wine in the quik-stop bargain bin. He smiled his wolfish smile up at Sam.

"Ah. Sam Winchester, is it?"

"Yes." He hissed, rolling his eyes and sitting down heavily in the seat opposite the desk. Crowley's smile only faltered for a second.

"Oh, please, do sit down. So, what can I do for you?"

"I'm supposed to be here to talk about my grades."

"Ah. Well, what's wrong with them?"

"They're bad." Sam scowled, fully aware he was acting like a sulky teenage girl, and really not giving a shit.

"Wonderful. Thank you for being so helpful. Hang on a minute, let's find your file…" He clicked at his computer a little, before sucking air in through his teeth. "Yes… that is looking a little grim, isn't it? So what are you going to do about it?"

Sam blinked, stunned out of his sulk and into shocked outrage.

"Aren't you supposed to advise me about that? Being my advisor and everything."

"You're twenty five years old; surely you should be making your own decisions by now."

"Well, I'd appreciate your opinion." It was through gritted teeth. Crowley smirked.

"Alright, then… it appears you have two options. Study hard, take the bar, scrape by and maybe get a low level job at an average firm, or pack it all in now and get a frankly unimpressive day job."

"Yeah. So?"

"So pick one. And do it."

Sam paused, waiting for the rest of the advice that was supposed to calm and reassure him. Crowley stared at him.

"That's it?"

"That's it. Now unless you have something more important to say, could you be a sport and bugger off?"

"But… you can't… I mean, it's not that simple."

"Certainly it is." Crowley nodded. "Go out there, do what makes you happy. Aim for the stars, follow your bliss, and all that other hippy crap I'm supposed to say to you."

"But I can't just…"

"Well then, go out there and do what makes you miserable. Makes no difference to me or anyone else in the world. What you do is your problem. So go do it."

Sam scowled, stood, thought about arguing, and left. Sometimes, certain people just weeviled their way right into your head.

(-*-)

Trash was strewn all over the kitchen floor. Murdock sniffed inquisitively at one of the piles of paper and old pizza boxes, before glancing at his mater who was rummaging through it all like a crazed raccoon. Murdock snorted derisively and trotted off to spend some quality time with his teddy.

Gabriel cursed quietly to himself as he waded through his accumulated kitchen trash. His phone rang, and he answered it with no short amount of annoyance.

"Yeah?"

"Gabriel?"

The bottom fell out of his stomach and he fell still.

"Hey, Sam."

There was a pause, filled with such uncomfortable, awkward silence that Gabriel realised he'd never felt around Sam before.

"I don't know why I called you. I guess I wasn't thinking…"

"It's ok. If you want to talk, you know, I'm not busy or…"

"No." Sam sighed. "I'm sorry, I can't… I thought I could but I just can't yet."

He hung up.

Gabriel sat back, the kitchen swimming slightly around him. Sam had sounded sad. And confused. But overall, the thing that had stunned Gabriel the most, was how tired he sounded. He sounded utterly weary, like the last few weeks had put years on him. He sounded like he needed someone to make him sit down, have a hot cocoa and chill the hell out.

And, Gabriel realised, although he would die before admitting it, he really wanted a hug.

He put his phone aside carefully, before beginning digging through the trash with renewed fervour.

"Shit… shit shit shit, crap dammit…"

There was a knock at the door.

"It's open."

"From all the scratching and scuffling going on up here," Pamela called, moving towards the kitchen. "I'm going to guess either Murdock's digging up the floorboards, or you're looking for something."

"Well done, Sherlock." Gabriel muttered, glancing up at her. "Careful where you step, there's trash everywhere."

"I'd guessed that from the smell." Pamela sniffed, reaching into her handbag and producing a familiar looking notebook. "Wouldn't be this you were looking for?"

Gabriel stared at her from the kitchen floor.

"I don't know whether to hug you or hit you."

"Either way, I'd appreciate it if you showered first."

"Yes." Gabriel stood, shepherding Pamela through to sit on the couch. "Sit, stay, I'll shower, then we can talk. Actually, you might want to summon Balthazar up here too, I might need his connections."

"Gabriel?" Pamela smiled, happy to hear a familiar, lively note in her friend's voice which had been absent some time. "Are you planning something?"

"You could say that." Gabriel nodded, already half way to the bathroom. "I just hope I didn't leave it too late."


	22. Chapter 22

Sam prized his face from the book he was currently using as a pillow and swatted angrily at the buzzing sound by his ear. He managed to force himself up into a sitting position, and in doing so made the horrible mistake of catching sight of himself in the darkened screen of his laptop.

Christ.

His hair was a total mess, much like the scrub of bristles he was accumulating. He'd bathed recently (sort of) but grooming left something to be desired. He was still wearing sweatpants and yesterday's t-shirt. He had bags under his eyes from the recent sleepless nights, and he was pretty sure he was starting to get frown lines.

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and answered his phone.

"Yeah?" His voice came out in a gruff bark, catching in his throat. It didn't surprise him; it had probably been a day or two since he'd actually spoken to anyone.

"Sam? Boy, you sound rough." Pamela cooed sympathetically. "What's up, grumpy? Hitting the books?"

"Yeah. Or, trying to." Sam heaved another sigh and checked the clock. It wasn't even lunch time yet and he was falling asleep at the table. That was bad. "Anyway, what's up?"

"I was just wondering if you'd want to buy some tickets?"

"Tickets?"

"Yeah… I'm going out on tour again. Uh… solo, this time." Let it never be said that she couldn't be tactful.

"Cool."  
>"The first gig's at a proper theatre and everything, about twenty minutes drive from where you are. Interested?"<p>

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Dean, from his place on the couch, twisted around to look inquisitively at Sam. Sam ignored him.

"Ah, come on. You'll be doing a blind woman a favour; it's practically charity."  
>"Charity?"<p>

"What? Momma needs new shoes."

"Ah." Sam laughed. "Well, I don't know…"

"Look, it's my first tour… you know, fully solo. I could do with some friendly support at the first gig." She paused, sounding a little awkward. "Gabriel said he won't buy a ticket."

"Yeah. Thanks for bringing that up." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "That wasn't why I was saying no… but he's really not going to see you?"

"He's busy, apparently. I didn't push it… whatever. Forget I mentioned him. Are you going to buy tickets or not?"

"Pamela, I really don't…"

"It's on December 31st, it starts at eight… I'll give you a discount! Come on, bring along the family!"

"No, I… I've got a lot of studying to do. I think I'm going to pass."

"Ugh. Fine, grumpy, be boring."

"I will. I don't know, maybe I'll see you around some time when you get back from tour?"

"I'd like that. See you around, Sam."

"See you." Sam hung up, and steeled himself for the epic journey across the kitchen to make coffee.

"Who was that?" Dean called from the couch. Sam shrugged.

"A friend."  
>"Just a friend?"<p>

"Yeah. She wanted to see if I would buy tickets for her next show…"

"Oh god." Dean stood and slumped over to the kitchen. "You're not getting in with performance artists again, are you? I mean, you had your experimental phase, fine, but no brother of mine is going to get involved with a mime."

Sam scowled at Dean, an expression which had long since stopped being effective, and Dean took over coffee-making from the guy who probably couldn't walk in a straight line, much less pour hot liquid from one container to another.

"No, she's a stand up. But I told her I wasn't up to it."

"Oh." Dean said, handing him his coffee. "You sure? A night out might do you some good."

"No." Sam sighed, finding a pencil that had somehow managed to get itself tied into his hair. He blinked at it, legitimately failing to remember whether it was he or Dean that was responsible, before dropping it on his textbook. "I've got to hit the books, or I'm not going to pass the bar."

"Yeah, but dude…" Dean glanced at the piles of research material that covered their table. "You've been hitting them pretty hard, and there's still, like, five months 'til you have to actually do anything, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Sam." Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder and stared at him. "You're supposed to be on Christmas vacation. Bobby and Ellen are both gonna kill me if I take you over there tomorrow and you've run yourself ragged. It's Christmas eve eve. So have your coffee and… I don't know, take a bath, go for a walk… do something to chill out."

"Yeah." Sam sighed, knowing that Dean wouldn't be argued with. "Wait, 'Christmas eve eve'?"  
>"Yeah. The night before Christmas eve."<p>

"No, I know but… seriously? It's the twenty third already?" He ran a hand through his hair and downed his coffee, before smiling weakly at Dean. "I've just totally lost track of time."

"Which is proof you need to chill out. Go relax, I'll make dinner."

"And by 'make' you mean 'order', right?"

Dean threw a pencil at Sam's head, and Sam ducked into the bathroom to avoid it. He chuckled to himself, and ran a shower.

Dean, meanwhile, slipped his phone out of his pocket. He sent a quick text to Ellen, before phoning the only Chinese take-out place that would deliver up to their apartment. The text to Ellen read, simply:

"Plan B. Big Bird didn't take the bait. Floyd Pepper over and out."

He was not impressed with Ellen's reply.

"Floyd Pepper was Muppets, not Sesame Street. I thought we agreed you were Cookie Monster?"

Dean growled and flipped his phone shut. Elmo had better damn appreciate all this.

(-*-)

When Sam and Dean arrived at Bobby's, as per Christmas eve tradition, they were each given their card to open early, as was Jo. Jo was ecstatic to receive fifty dollars of Banana Republic vouchers, and punched Bobby in the arm when he said he should have made it more. Dean was overjoyed with his fifty dollars, which were given in Radioshack vouchers and he declared would go to fixing the stereo in his car. Sam, however, was less impressed.

"Theatre tickets."

"Mm-hmm." Ellen nodded, halfway through a glass of eggnog. "I got them from a friend of mine at step class. She's a stand up comedian, and I thought with all the stress you've been putting yourself through lately, you could do with a night out. And I bought one for everyone, so we can all go together."

Sam forced a smile, and downed another glass of eggnog.

He didn't see Dean and Ellen trade conspiratorial winks.

(-*-)

The C.P. Theatre was an intimate venue, decorated in newly restored art deco, but it was still one of the bigger venues Pamela had ever played. As she stood in the wings, listening to the audience filing in, hearing their voices bounce around the auditorium, she really hoped her opening act was up to the challenge.

Balthazar, who had lucked out and gotten the job of watching the sound desk, got her attention by way of pinching her backside.

"We ready to start?"

"Are the guests of honour here yet?"

"Just got a message from the one Castiel likes… they are in their box."

"Ok then." Pamela nodded. "Let's raise that curtain."

The audience quieted instantly as the lights fell and the curtain opened. Under a few blaring bars of the Beatles' "Twist and Shout", a fairly short man who was dressed as Ferris Bueller (black and orange cardigan and all) bowled out onto the stage.

"Hello." He said, once he'd reached the microphone, grinning broadly at the audience as the music faded away. "So, the first thing you might notice is that I don't look like a 'Pamela'. Don't panic, I'm the opening act."

In the box Pamela had 'kindly' let them get tickets for, Sam tried and failed to slip out unnoticed. Bobby stood firmly between his younger son and the door, arms crossed. He spoke in a menacing whisper as Gabriel continued to charm the audience.

"Boy, I didn't drive half way across the state for you to wuss out because your feelings got hurt. Even if you don't want to stay, I'm going to get my money's worth."

"Pamela gave Ellen those tickets!" Sam hissed back, unable to keep the indignance out of his voice. "It didn't cost anything."

"Yeah, well, nor does manners. Sit down." Bobby glared at Sam, who reluctantly sank back into his chair, and carried on sinking in the hopes he might just turn invisible. Gabriel was still talking.

"…I hate dating. I mean, I really, really do. But it's one of those necessary evils, like taxes. You want the government to pay for stuff? You have to pay the government. You want someone to have dinner once a week and bang you into the mattress? You have to publically and privately demean yourself for months before they'll see you naked. It's like playing the worst ever version of Monopoly. Instead of hotels it has daddy issues, and community chest is never as nice as it looks… 'Your date gave you VD. Do not pass go, do not collect $200'…"

The audience laughed. Sam cringed. Gabriel shot a quick smile around the audience, his eyes lingering for a moment on the box. He continued, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Most people my age got the majority of their dating advice from TV shows like Friends. Which, you know, is a big mistake. Six neurotic nut-bags with all the depth and sexual charisma of a contact lens case. I don't want my love-life to mirror that… No, if I got to choose, my love life would be like a Japanese game-show… fast-paced, dramatic, and it leaves you going 'Holy shit, did you see what just happened?'"

The audience, on the whole, found this hilarious. Dean smirked at Sam, who tried to sink even lower into his chair and focused all his energy on blinking out of existence. Gabriel seemed a little abashed at the crowd's laughter, shrugging and scuffing his foot across the floor.

"I can hope. But, as it is, it's more like one of those procedural cop shows, you know? I've got Intellect and Observation… wearing sunglasses… at night… and they're stood over the corpse of my sex life, saying things like 'He's… shagged out.'"

Another laugh. Another cringe. Gabriel shrugged again.

"I shouldn't be complaining, though, really. I'm kind of in a thing, right now. Well, I think I am. Whether or not he agrees is a separate issue... We recently had something of a break up, which I'm really hoping he reconsiders. Because yeah, I was a dick and yeah, it's all my fault, but that's no reason to quit having frankly awesome sex… It's my own fault though, really. You know, I turned thirty five, and I asked myself, "Gabriel, you wonderfully matured sociopath. Do you want to go for a respectable, emotionally stable member of society your own age, thus giving any potential relationship a more comfortable start point… or… hey, there's a kid that's thirteen years younger than you going through one of the most stressful schools of education ever. Yum"."

Gabriel shrugged off the audience's laughter, treating them to a shy smile.

"He is fairly irresistible. And, you know, I'm still kind of surprised by it all. We went through the whole romantic comedy thing, you know, hit all the trademarks… "Meet in a bar, go on a few dates, get stuck in an awkward rut because I want to spend time with you, and I want you to know I want to spend time with you, but I don't want to obviously want to spend time with you so I'm going to be a total dick instead"… that whole thing, and we've now gotten to the point where one of us needs to swallow our pride and admit that we were a total dick… publically demeaning ourselves, song and dance number, finishing with a big kiss either on a bridge, a crosswalk or in an airport. Then we phone up Matthew McConaughey and Paul Rudd and get paid a whole ton of money for a movie deal."

A few chuckles. Sam felt himself blush slightly as he got a good idea of what Gabriel was hinting at. He realised Gabriel was looking up at the box again, his eyes shining their honey gold under the stage lights.

"After all that though, what surprises me the most is that he's into me. Or, was, I suppose. If he's set on breaking up, but like I said, we've reached the point where I admit that I was selfish. I mean…" He shrugged, and turned back to the audience at large. "We had our problems. Who doesn't? But, if he's willing to give me a chance, I reckon we could make a better go, second time 'round. Because I've never been more in love with anyone."

An "aww" crept up from the audience. Gabriel smirked.

"Thanks, but I'm not doing this for sympathy. I do it for money. Or to get laid. Which I probably shouldn't say in front of his parents… sir, ma'am." He bowed to the box, and then saluted for good measure. "You raised a fine, upstanding young man. And that's totally not meant to be innuendous."

The audience laughed again, and Gabriel drummed his fingers against the microphone stand.

"This hasn't been one of my best sets. Especially not as my big goodbye to the world of stand-up. But, you know, some things matter more than being funny. And that's something I didn't know was true, until I met him."

He cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"That's kind of why I'm dressed like Ferris Bueller. You know, 'Life moves pretty fast, and if you don't stop and look around once in a while…' Plus, I've got to be honest with you, I've just always wanted this jacket."

The audience laughed, and Gabriel bowed.

"Thank you. I'm going to leave you now in the capable hands of my dear friend Pamela. Ladies and gentlemen, here she is, Pamela Barnes!"

Gabriel bowed to laughter and applause, and pressed the microphone into Pamela's hands as she walked onto the stage. Pamela pulled Gabriel into a brief hug and whispered into his ear.

"You did just great, sweetie."

She strode past him and began her act. Gabriel felt himself sag with relief as he walked off stage.

Sam was out of his chair and had left the box in a matter of seconds.


	23. Chapter 23

Gabriel rested his head against the cool brick of the backstage wall, nerves and nausea washing over him as Pamela calmly whisked the audience away into focusing on her. Within ten minutes, he would be a fleeting memory to most of them. Most, but hopefully not all.

Balthazar flashed him a reassuring smile from the sound booth, which he returned before wandering further into the backstage area. He had to think on this for a moment; a large part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him it was the most stupid thing he'd ever done and trying desperately to pull up the old defences again.

But for once, he didn't want to. There was an oddly cool, calm sensation in his gut, amidst the embarrassment and the trepidation and the terrifying honesty that seemed to be grounding him. When he held his breath, he could hear it telling him he'd done the right thing. It was out in the open now. He'd said it. It was real. And however Sam chose to react, it would now at least be honest and informed.

Gabriel glanced up at the clock that hung above the doors to the dressing rooms. Half past eight on New Year's Eve, and here he was. Pamela was doing an hour long show, with a ten minute break in the middle. From Gabriel's experience of theatre, ten might be more like fifteen. So by quarter to ten, ten at the latest, they'd be leaving the theatre and finding some bar to crawl into, seeing in the new year with the time honoured tradition of hopefully getting so drunk you forget most of the last one.

Somehow, it didn't sound as promising as it usually did.

A girl with short black hair and a sunny, nervous smile approached him, her uniform and headset identifying her as one of the liaisons between ushers and stage crew. She tapped him on the shoulder, speaking with the practiced whisper of someone who spends a lot of time backstage.

"Mister DiAngelo?"

"S'me." Gabriel didn't remove his forehead from the wall, but turned slightly so he could see her better.

"I thought your set was great, real sweet. There's a member of the audience at the stage door, says he has to talk to you right now. Shall I bring him back here, or..?"

"Yeah." Gabriel croaked, his mouth suddenly very dry as he pushed himself away from the wall. Then, suddenly, "no. No, if we talk over another one of Pamela's sets, she'll kill me. As much as I love an ironic parallel, I'm not prepared to die for it… Take me to him; we'll go out in the lobby."

Gabriel's hands were clammy, and he tried desperately to compose himself in the minute and a half he had to walk to the stage door. He was suddenly very aware of how he looked, how he was carrying himself. He knew a thing or two about making the right impression, and for once, he found himself wondering how to act honest, and act like he wasn't acting. Then, the liaison girl opened the stage door, and all of Gabriel's worries about himself faded away.

Sam looked… good… Well, he probably looked better than Gabriel had when he pulled his disappearing act. He'd clearly been looking after himself, eating right, bathing, but he was… he seemed lethargic. Tired. He was hunching himself even tighter than usual, leaning against the wall by the door. When he met Gabriel's eyes there was a sort of resigned embarrassment there, usually reserved for asking debtors to hold off for just one more week.

Tentatively, under a reassuring smile, Gabriel took Sam's hand. He winked at the liaison girl.

"Thanks. I'm good form here."

Pamela's voice boomed over the sound system in the next room. Gabriel couldn't hear the words, and he only vaguely registered the wave of laughter that followed them.

(-*-)

The bar in the lobby was intimate, all chrome and blue lighting from concealed bulbs. The barman had served them happily, and was keeping himself to himself, and Gabriel had given him a look that asked they keep it that way. He turned himself in his barstool, angling as close to Sam as he dared to get, finding himself yearning for familiar smells and touches he didn't even know he'd memorised. His fingertips rested fractions of an inch away from Sam's hand. It was nervous, really, almost virginal, which Gabriel was very out of practice with. He smiled nervously at Sam.

"So."  
>"Yeah."<p>

"I'm sorry. If that whole… thing…" Gabriel waved vaguely in the direction of the stage. "Stand up set… if it embarrassed you. You know I wasn't making fun of you, or your family. I just… You know, I have to do things my way."

"No, I get it." Sam nodded, drumming his fingers on his beer bottle. "It was… it was good. It was nice to finally hear all of it. I mean, I'm kind of mad that you felt you needed, like, a hundred other people to hear it too, but, I get it."

"Yeah… I was going for the big public show of romance, but when you say it like that it is kind of… attention –seeking, huh?"

"Well, you know what they say about leopards and spots."

"Ouch." Gabriel laughed, raising his eyebrows at Sam. "I'd almost forgotten how catty you get when you're sleep deprived."

"I'm not sleep deprived…"

"Oh really?" Gabriel's laughter had an instantaneous effect on Sam, and no matter how much he wanted to be mad, he couldn't help smiling. "So the big ink smudge up your face, that's just a new look you're trying, huh?"

"What? Seriously? Where?"

"Right here." Gabriel laughed, grabbing a napkin and wiping Sam's forehead. "It was under your hair before, that's why I didn't…"

Gabriel paused, realising he had both hands rested on Sam's face, their lips mere inches apart. He swallowed back the rest of his sentence, wiped the black-blue stain from Sam's forehead and sat back, staring intently at the bar top.

"Uh… got it."

Sam blinked at him.

"That's it? No comments, no trying to grab my ass?"

"No." Gabriel looked at him, his eyes warm with the honest streaks of honey gold. "This is about you, Sam. I'm not here to pressure you into anything; I'm not trying to win you over. Well… of course, I'm hoping you'll find me irresistible and demand that I take you here and now, but I'm not going to push this."

Sam stared at him for a moment, before laughing bitterly and resting his head in his hands.

"Oh God… I have really messed up."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. My advisor is evil, my grades are falling, I think I'm turning nocturnal… Everyone's trying to be nice, but I know I'm annoying them, really, because I'm annoying myself at this point… it's just… it's all gone to shit."

"Hey. It's just a rough patch. And take it from someone who knows; driving yourself crazy over it won't make it better."

"What should I do? Gabriel? I mean… maybe I'm not meant to be a lawyer after all. Maybe I shouldn't… but then, what else am I going to do?"

Gabriel thought for a moment, finding himself moving closer to Sam without any conscious effort.

"Oh, now here's something I can talk about from experience. Sam, I'm thirty five, I still don't know what I should do with my life. I mean, I've been an actor, a chef, a writer, a comic… a pawn and a king. I've been up and down and over and out, and I know… no, wait that's Frank Sinatra…"

Sam punched him on the arm. Gabriel let himself move a little closer.

"Point is, Sam, I've been doing whatever makes me happy for some time now. And I can vouch for that; as a way to live, it's pretty good. But if you don't know what you want to do, maybe you owe it to yourself to take some time to figure it out." He let his fingertips brush against Sam's hand, pleased when Sam didn't shy away. "I'd say take the bar, then take some time out. Figure out what you want to do. I mean, you can do that, right?"

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"It can't be."

"Ok, I'm going to go with "Why" again?"

"Because. If it was that simple then everyone would do it."

"Maybe everyone isn't as clever as us." Gabriel shrugged, sipping at his cocktail and then instantly regretting it. "Urgh. This guy is not the best bar man ever."

"He put in way too much lime juice." Sam said, barely looking up. Gabriel smiled awkwardly.

"Good thing. Because if he'd made it better than you, I'd feel pressured to flirt. Provided that I'm available." He feigned casualness as he glanced over at Sam. "Am I? Available?"

Sam frowned for a moment, deep in thought. A bell rang somewhere, and Gabriel sighed.

"This place is about to get pretty busy."

"Let's go." Sam smiled, taking Gabriel's hand and leading him from the bar.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet."

They disappeared through the lobby doors, and into the cold, damp air of New Year's Eve. Gabriel shivered and zipped up his jacket, smiling as Sam did likewise. Light spilled out of nearby bars as the nightlife began to stir, echoes of music and bass-lines muffled by layers of concrete tried to show everyone how they thought the evening should be celebrated. Gabriel was glad he was too old for clubs. Sam was glad he had better things to do. They linked arms with an ease that suggested they'd never been apart as they strolled around the quieter streets, staring up at a cloud-dappled indigo sky.

"I still love you." Sam said, glancing down at Gabriel. "This time apart, this whole thing has told me that much. Everything that happened, every day I kept wanting to tell you things. Kept wanting to have you there. And… I don't know, I guess I was scared. I guess because I don't think I even loved Jess like I love you. And… I don't know how to deal with that."

Gabriel nodded, thinking for a moment as he let himself feel soothed, just by being at Sam's side.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Ellen beat the shit out of me. And knocked some sense into me at the same time. Maybe she needed to beat the shit out first so there'd be room… Anyway, she pointed out to me that maybe you and I both have the same problem of assuming everyone else is better adjusted. And maybe we both need someone to hit us over the heads and tell us to stop feeling sorry and get on with it."

Sam considered it.

"It's not the worst idea."

"Maybe we should each be the other's sponsor for emotional bitch-aholism."

"Maybe. I think I'd like that."

"I would too."

They wandered through the streets haphazardly, in a vaguely circular route.

"I promised Pam I'd watch her show." Sam sighed. "We should probably be getting back."

"I suppose." Gabriel sighed. "Are you going to sit in your booth and watch it? You could always see it from backstage."

"I've never been backstage before… I'm sorry I didn't get you a Christmas present."

"Eh. I'm guilty too. I'm sure we can find some way to make it up to each other."

Quietly smiling, they turned around and began to wander back towards the theatre. Underneath the quiet thumping of subterranean clubs came the quiet crunch of the couple's footsteps, and the gentle huff of their shared breath. Gabriel sucked air in through his teeth.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. Sam nudged him.

"Seriously, what?"

"Just…" Gabriel shrugged, glancing up at Sam. "Not to ruin the moment, but it's missing the punch-line, don't you think?"

Sam chuckled, fixing Gabriel with his "you're cute, but shut your pie-hole" look.

"Well, think on it. Maybe you'll figure it out."

Gabriel rolled his shoulders back and frowned in thought, a quiet smile in his eyes.

"A comedian and a law student walk into a bar. Both order their drinks and they get to talking. The comedian turns to the law student and says "you know what the difference between the two of us is? The difference is that I can say anything I like, anything at all, and as long as it's funny, I'll get away with it." And the law student says…"

In one swift movement, Sam descended on Gabriel and pulled him up into a deep, tender kiss, wrapping the smaller man up in his arms and holding them there together in that perfect moment of reunion. Eventually, they parted. Sam smiled.

"And the law student says "no, the difference between the two of us is I can make you shut up"."

Gabriel smirked up at Sam, slapping his ass as they carried on walking back towards the theatre, feeling like he'd finally got the joke.

(-*-)

The intercom buzzer announced the expected guests with its standard snarl. Gabriel really needed to find out if there was a way to change that noise. He slapped the intercom button.

"Strawberry Fields Theme Park, where nothing is real, least of all our insurance."

"Ah crap, you been listening to the Beatles again?"

"You're late." Gabriel grinned, letting them up into the building. He turned to the couch, to find Sam still fretting and fervently refreshing the page open on his laptop. Gabriel tapped his forehead, dragging him out of his thoughts. "Quit it."

"What?"

"You're stressing. Quit it."

"Well I'm sorry if I'm nervous, it's not like I've been working for this for most of my life or anything."

"If you've been working for it this long, you can wait another ten minutes. Calm down."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam sighed, running his hands through his hair. Gabriel massaged his shoulders, knowing exactly how to turn Sam to putty.

"Go get Pamela's table from downstairs, if you really need to do something. You might meet your brother on the way up."

Sam smiled gratefully at his boyfriend, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he slipped through the front door. Gabriel stretched out, waggling his fingers as he shook off a morning's worth of kitchen stress. He poked his head around the kitchen door to check again, ordering Murdock to sit in his bed until he was summoned.

Sam returned with a folding picnic table, which was awkwardly set up in the space between kitchen and living room, and he was followed by Bobby, Dean, Ellen and Jo. Everyone greeted each other with happy chatter, which got Murdock all excited and under everyone's feet again. Sam instantly returned to his laptop.

"Pamela sends her regards and says good luck." He called out, to anyone who cared to listen. "She also says that Balthazar bought her a guide dog."

"How's she going to get it back over here?" Gabriel stuck his head around the kitchen door, where he was trying to prevent Jo and Dean from sneaking dinner before it had been served. "Isn't that going to violate quarantine or something?"

"I don't know, I didn't study English law."

"She'll find a way around it." Ellen smiled, setting the table without anyone asking her. "Probably tell them she knows a celebrity and can get them written into HBO's new hit sitcom." She nudged Gabriel, grinning at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Please. No talking about work."

"Work." Bobby chuckled, peering over Sam's shoulder. "No offence, but you haven't gotten your hands dirty a day in your life."

"Apart from the dinner I just cooked for you, you mean." Gabriel waved a spatula at Bobby, smirking at him. Ellen rolled her eyes, and she and Gabriel began serving everything up, while Dean found chairs for everyone. Murdock was currently being pampered by his new favourite person, Jo. In the kitchen, Ellen took the dishes Gabriel gave her.

"So how's success treating you?"

"Not bad. It's nice to have something to do while Sam's studying."

"How are you two?"

"We're good." Gabriel smiled. "Better than ever."

Ellen smiled back at him and nudged him with her elbow.

"Did you hear about Dean and your brother?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "He's like a damn lovesick puppy, mooning around. Tell me we weren't like that?"

"I'm saying nothing." Ellen grinned, resuming table setting. Sam's shout distracted them from their conversation.

"It's up! It's up!"

The entire group seemed to hold their breaths. Even Murdock fell still, watching Sam type in his password with shaking hands.

"Well?" Dean was watching his brother with nervous excitement. Ellen flapped at him to be quiet. Sam visibly collapsed against the couch.

"I passed."

"What?"

"I did it! Passed the bar!"

The celebratory whoops shook the apartment. Sam and Dean high-fived, Ellen and Bobby hugged each other before hugging Sam. Jo treated him to a bone-cruncher special, and eventually Sam managed to make his way across the room to Gabriel. He grinned back at his family.

"Might want to look away, this is going to get mushy."

He didn't really give them much of a chance, as he was almost instantly locking lips with his boyfriend, hugging each other in (almost) silent celebration of what they'd worked together to achieve.

Sam separated to draw breath, resting his forehead against Gabriel's.

"Love you." He whispered.

"Love you too." Gabriel smiled back.

Sam blinked, his shoulders sagging as he turned away.

"Shit ."

"What?"

"We're only leased until, like, next month. I'd completely forgotten it." Sam turned to Dean. It runs through the school, we don't have…"

"Dude." Dean scowled at him. "You can't relax for five minutes?"

"You can always move back in with us 'til you find another place." Ellen smiled at her sons as she sat down at the dinner table. Bobby stifled an incredulous laugh that implied he wasn't so sure he agreed. As everyone took their places around the table, Gabriel cleared his throat.

"Or… you know, if you've got to live somewhere… I mean, it's not much, but you're here all the time anyway, and I do own it."

Sam blinked at Gabriel, his billion gigawatt smile firmly in place.

"Is this you… asking me to move in?"

"Yeah." Gabriel shrugged. "Like I said, you're here all the time anyway, and..."

"Yeah." Sam nodded, running his hand down Gabriel's spine in a way that he knew Gabriel loved. "That'd be awesome."

"Well alright." Bobby said, giving Gabriel a look of quiet approval. "Let's celebrate."

"Hey, where am I supposed to live, then?" Dean nudged Sam, pulling a mocking bitch-face. "You're leaving me?"

"Well, I hear Castiel has a bed free." Gabriel muttered into his drink.

"What?"

"Nothing. Hey, try the sweet potatoes."

"They're not going to be as good." Sam sing-songed, earning himself a shove on the arm. Murdock waited happily underneath the table glad to finally have a meal where Rumsfeld wouldn't get all the good table scraps. Say what you like about these bipeds, but they had good tastes.

Gabriel was inclined to agree.

**(A/N: So there we go. Finito. I want to thank everyone for the lovely notes and reviews, and tell you just how much they all meant to me. Stay tuned here, at my livejournal page (costumecountess) or my twitter (.com/vikkiethemimm) for more stories. Love you all!)**


	24. Epilogue

**a/n: A little epilogue, prompted by Leigh-ann, about Sam and Gabriel as a more established relationship. It is very R rated and very NSFW. Consider yourselves warned. on another note, thanks so much for all the lovely comments and reviews, and I hope you like reading my other stories too!**

"Shit." Sam grumbled, as he fumbled with umbrella, suit jacket, briefcase and keys as he struggled with the apartment building door. He shot one last, betrayed glare over his shoulder at the smoking, sputtering Thunderbird, and went inside. It had broken down once on the way to his job interview, and twice on the way home. The thing was currently held together with gum and rubber bands. If Sam every got a paying job, he'd have to buy them a new car.

Not that Gabriel would part with Ol' Unfaithful, even if Sam bribed him.

He stumbled up the stairs, still juggling his various possessions, and hoping that the small, white box in his briefcase was still intact. Weeks, he thought to himself, weeks of no responses, no interviews and general unemployment, and when he had finally gotten an appointment for an interview, it just had to be on the day of his and Gabriel's one-year anniversary.

Not many couples would be living together before they'd even had a one-year anniversary, but then, he supposed, they hadn't exactly had the normal couple's experience. And he had wanted to celebrate that with Gabriel so badly, but he just couldn't turn down the job interview. And now he was late.

He had a feeling Gabriel wasn't going to let him live it down.

As he pushed into the apartment, he was surprised at the lack of Jack Russell Terrier around his knees; normally Murdock rushed to greet him, especially if he'd been gone more than a few hours. Aside from the sounds of various things boiling in the kitchen, the apartment was silent. Sam wandered through to the living room, and found Gabriel asleep, sat up on the couch. Smiling to himself, Sam dropped his things on one of the seats and wandered around to stand behind the couch, draping his arms over Gabriel's shoulders and pressing kisses along his neck.

"Mm…" Gabriel stirred, a lazy smile spreading across his lips as he stretched, like a cat, exposing more skin for Sam to kiss. "Hi."

"Hi."

"You're early."

"No." Sam leant back slightly, bending himself over the top of Gabriel's head. He smiled, upside down, at Gabriel's confusion. "I'm late."

Gabriel blinked at him for a moment.

"You fell asleep."

Gabriel blinked for a while longer, before scrambling quickly off of the couch and running to the kitchen.

"Shit… shit, shit… Dammit…"

Sam, knowing he probably wasn't going to like what he saw, followed the sound of his boyfriend's plaintive cries. Sure enough, he found himself wishing he'd looked into the kitchen when he'd first got in; Gabriel was currently assessing the damage of four pans left to boil away to nothing, and a grill tray with what may once have been meat on it.

"Shit." He surmised, dropping a particularly blackened pan into the sink, where it hissed belligerently at him when it hit the cold water.

"You were cooking?" Sam tried, leaning in the doorway. Gabriel scowled at him.

"Shrewd, Sherlock. But that's all ruined, now, and I can't fix anything else because we've got nothing else in the cupboards…"

"Hey." Sam's brow furrowed as he noted the warning signs of one of Gabriel's moods. He stood up straight, taking his boyfriend's hands in his, smiling at him. "We'll get take-out. No big deal, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Gabriel glanced around the kitchen, before shrugging and looking at the floor. Sam squeezed his hand. Gabriel shrugged again, in response to the unasked question. "It was just… I got Pamela to look after Murdock, I was going to have everything ready for you when you got in… It was going to be all romantic."

Sam tried to not coo like a massive girl, but it wasn't often Gabriel was this sweet.

"Shut up, you big dork." Gabriel smirked, raising an eyebrow at Sam's expression. "I was mostly just hoping to get in your pants."

Sam knew better, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Gabriel and surveyed the damage on the counter.

"Ok… so none of this is salvageable?"

"None of the actual food, no. The only stuff that isn't burned to a crisp is the chocolate cream I was going to serve the soufflés with." Gabriel sighed, relaxing into Sam's grip, before straightening up, with a look in his eye that worried Sam.

"Ooh."

"Ooh?" Sam repeated, warily watching Gabriel go to the fridge and remove the small container of chocolate cream. His eyes glinted wickedly as he smiled up at Sam.

"We might be able to salvage this evening after all." Gabriel took the saran wrap off of the container, and dipped his finger into the cream, reaching up to spread it across Sam's lips. Sam smiled, leaning in, to allow Gabriel to kiss the cream away. Gabriel hummed quietly at the sugary, chocolaty taste, before putting the cream container down on the table and starting to fumble with Sam's tie.

"Christ, am I good." Gabriel smirked, as Sam lifted him, sat him on the counter and started unbuttoning his shirt, pressing kisses along every inch of exposed flesh. Gabriel gave a deep, rich laugh as he wrapped his legs around Sam's hips, before running a hand through his hair. "You're pretty good too."

"Only pretty good?" Sam grinned, grabbing the pot of chocolate cream and holding it over Gabriel's chest.

"Eh." Gabriel smirked, his eyes shining defiantly. Sam shrugged.

"Well, now I don't feel obligated to warm this up first." And with that, he smeared the cold, straight-from-the-fridge cream down the centre of Gabriel's chest. Gabriel bit back a gasp, before giving Sam a very unimpressed look.

"You can't do stuff like that. That's the sort of stuff I do."

"I guess I learn by example." Sam grinned, before licking the cream up and making Gabriel groan happily.

"How…" Gabriel began, leaning back as Sam lavished kisses over his neck and chest, "have we been living here for six months and not had rampant kitchen sex already?"

"We've been busy." Sam grinned, freeing himself of shirt and tie, letting Gabriel take the pot of cream and starting on his zipper.

"Yeah…" Gabriel watched Sam for a moment, swiping a glob of cream on one finger and thoughtfully licking it. "I guess we have, huh?"

Sam stared at him for a moment, smile gone from his face.

"Really? Now?" Sam stepped back slightly, as much as he could when caught between Gabriel's knees. "You want to do this now?"

"What?" Gabriel tried to look innocent, finger smeared in chocolate cream, shirt discarded in the vegetable peelings on the counter and jeans open. Sam heaved a sigh.

"We've not had a proper evening together for, like, a month and a half. You really want to get all thoughtful and distracted now?"

"I'm not!" Gabriel protested, holding his hand out to Sam, smiling apologetically. "I'm just all… I've been missing you. I don't know how I'm going to cope when you actually get a job."

"Please." Sam took Gabriel's hand. "No more talking about jobs. Not now."

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off as Sam wrapped his mouth around Gabriel's index finger, slowly sucking off every last vestige of chocolate cream. Gabriel smiled the same wicked smile from earlier, before disentangling himself from Sam and hopping down off the counter.

"You. Couch. Now."

"But… kitchen sex…" Sam most certainly didn't whimper, as Gabriel smirked and led him back to the couch.

"I've spent most of the damn day in the kitchen. If we've not got Murdock for the night, I want to make the most of it."

Sam let Gabriel push him down onto the couch. It was a fair point, he supposed; as much as they loved that dog, he was a walking cock-block. Being able to fool around freely and without worrying about the terrier throwing a possessive fit was a rare treat.

Grinning, Gabriel manhandled Sam until he was lying down on the couch, the smaller man stripping him of his jeans and pants before kneeling between his legs. Wordlessly, locking eyes with Sam and still smiling in a way that made Sam's gut burn with excitement, he ran his hand up the inside of Sam's thigh. It made other parts of him fairly excited too, as Gabriel had found out. Scooping the chocolate cream into his hand, he rubbed at Sam's hardened cock, covering it with a thick layer of cream.

Sam beamed at Gabriel like Christmas had come early (Gabriel hoped that was the only thing that came early), closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the arm of the couch. His hands drifted to the back of Gabriel's head, fisting in his hair as he felt warm, soft wetness envelope his cock.

Sam groaned appreciatively, and Gabriel hummed back, licking at the cream like it was the best thing he'd tasted in years. He felt the wet warmth of Gabriel's tongue lapping, tugging slightly; happy to let the first threads of orgasm train up his spine… then it very suddenly went away.

He felt Gabriel pull away, but the mouth was quickly replaced by a hand. Alright, thought Sam, not what he'd have preferred, but after a month and a half of no action, he was just glad he wasn't doing it to himself. Sam let his hands rest by his sides.

"Hello?"

Sam opened his eyes and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Gabriel was on his phone.

"Yeah, I want the set menu for two." He said into the phone, shooting a wink at Sam. Sam tried to ask what the hell Gabriel thought he was doing, but he was silenced by Gabriel gripping his exposed region in just such a way that meant the protesting part of his brain was quickly switched off. Gabriel gave his address, before thanking whoever he was on the phone to and hanging up. Sam, more in control of his synapses, glared at him.

"Did you just order take-out while you were jerking me off?"

"It has been over a month, Sam."Gabriel moved his legs so he was straddling Sam's hips, wrapping his arms around the younger man's neck and staring hungrily into his eyes. "You have been tired and stressed, I have been busy and stressed, and for the first time in over a month, we are able to be together. It's our anniversary, kiddo, and I want to spend the whole evening being mushy and romantic as much as you do. But right now, I need you hard and fast and instantly gratifying. So come on…" He stood, looking down on Sam from above, pulling off his jeans and boxers.

Sam scowled, trying very hard to remain angry, even though he could see that Gabriel still had chocolate cream smeared around his lips and for some reason it was driving him crazy.

"You've got thirty minutes or less."

And it was then that Sam knew that Gabriel had spent too much time lately writing for TV.

Not that he had a chance to complain, though, as Gabriel claimed his mouth with a deep, probing kiss, before resting himself over the head of Sam's dick. Sam thought he was showing marked restraint as he rested his hands on Gabriel's hips and… "encouraged" his lover to sit.

"Easy, easy." Gabriel slapped Sam's hand, chuckling. "Month and a half… got to ease into it…"

Sam bit his lip, trying very hard to just enjoy the aggravatingly slow stretch of feeling as Gabriel sank onto him.

"Oh God, Sam…" Gabriel started rolling his hips, spurring Sam into movement. It didn't take much, the long, fluid movements coming easily to them, and their knowledge of what the other always wanted, meant that each roll of hips took Sam to climax worryingly quickly.

"Gabe…" he panted, very aware he was probably only five minutes into their predicted thirty, "Gabe, I'm gonna… Shit, I can't hold out…"

"Me either. We'll call this a warm up." Gabriel carried on rolling his hips, cheeks flushed with colour. "We can… try for longer… shit, we've got all evening…"

"Gabe?"

"Yeah?"

Sam rolled his hips a few more times, no longer afraid of chasing the quick, gratuitous release, gripping his boyfriend's ass and closing his eyes as fire blossomed in his gut.

"I love you."

"Love you… too… Sam…" The name trailed off into a gasp as Gabriel's eyes rolled back in his head, Sam panting with the sudden release which had triggered off the same reaction in Gabriel.

"Jesus…" Gabriel panted, leaning forward to pant and nuzzle into Sam's collar. "I needed that."

"Mm." Sam managed to reply, wrapping his arms around Gabriel and holding him tightly to his chest. "Mmmm."

They lay for a moment, panting, before Gabriel reluctantly climbed off of Sam and went to the bathroom. Sam lay on the couch, catching his breath, before managing to sit up, pull himself over and run his finger around the chocolate cream bowl, licking up the last few vestiges. Then, he spotted his briefcase, and remembered the small white box inside.

"Hey." Sam called, taking the white box out of the briefcase. It was slim and short, and just big enough for Sam to palm it as he followed through to the bathroom.

"I don't think I'm going to let you leave this apartment. Ever. You'll be my housewife slash sex slave, and you'll stay here." Gabriel, freshly cleaned, shrugged into a bathrobe and grinned up at Sam. "I may even consider getting a real job."

"I don't think I could, in good conscience, let you loose on the world."Sam smiled back, kissing Gabriel and pressing the box into his hands. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know we said no presents, but… you've done a lot for me." Sam shrugged. "It's not a big deal, I just wanted you to have something."

Gabriel spun on his heel, leaning back against Sam. Sam knew this was Gabriel's way of requesting a hug, because he couldn't outright ask for one. Sam wrapped Gabriel in his arms and rested his chin on his shoulder, waiting for Gabriel to open the box.

"It's a pen." Sam said, redundantly, as Gabriel examined his gift.

"I can see that. It's a very classy pen." Gabriel examined the silver fountain pen, holding it up to the light. It had a "G" engraved on the body, in neat, curling script.

"I just figured… this way you wouldn't lose your pens."

Gabriel let his head fall back, so he was smiling up at Sam.

"It's lovely. You're lovely. You're a big, girly, mushy dork, who I love."

"Takes one to know one." Sam smiled, brushing a kiss across his boyfriend's lips.

"I'm going to put this somewhere safe. You get cleaned up." Gabriel patted him on the ass and padded out of the bathroom.

And that was how they spent their anniversary. Maybe not the most conventional anniversary, what with the Chinese take-out guy arriving just in time to have the door answered by a sweaty, sex-haired Gabriel, or the decision to see how many rooms of the apartment they could have sex in in one evening, but, as they finally crawled into bed together, exhausted and very happy, they both knew they wouldn't change it for the world.

"Kitchen cleaning tomorrow." Gabriel grumbled, as he wrapped himself in Sam's arms.

"And getting Murdock back from Pamela." Sam agreed. "Sleep now."

"Sleep. Night."

"Night… love you?"

"Love you too, you big girl."

Sam punched Gabriel in the arm, and they both promptly fell asleep.


End file.
